Choices
by Alannis
Summary: The Order distrusts their spy and Albus Dumbledore decides that to preserve Snape's status he has to ignore his privacy and expose his memories to everyone. Started right after reading OotP and still far from being finished. I really want to continue.
1. Chapter 1: Commotion downstairs

Disclaimer: None of these wonderful characters belong to me – unfortunately. Not that I would mind, though. Anyway, they belong to J.K.R. and I will be forever grateful to her for creating them.

Should anyone else already have had a similar idea to this one – which is likely, because there are so many HP-stories – please rest assured that I didn't steal from you. I happened to stumble across this idea all on my own.

_Chapter 1: Commotion downstairs_

„How can anyone be expected to concentrate with all this noise!" Harry shouted frustrated, flinging his copy of _1000 Magical Herbs and Fungi_ into the farthest corner of the room. It landed with a loud BANG. Irritated Hermione looked up from her roll of parchment and stopped re-reading her essay on "_The Importance of Sandalwood in Potion Making_" for the seemingly tenth time.

"What noise?"

It had always been a mystery to Ron and Harry how their friend could get wrapped up in her homework so much that she wouldn't notice anything going on around her. A book on Quidditch or an adventure story, ok. But homework?

A door slammed shut downstairs and a second later Alastor Moody's voice could be heard echoing through the hallway downstairs and up the staircase. Luckily they had finally found a way to remove the Black family's portraits over the Christmas holidays, otherwise the racket outside would have been deafening by now.

"You will not just leave! You will stay here and answer some questions. NOW!"

Curiosity got the better of the three 6th year Hogwarts students. They knew they were not allowed downstairs or, as a matter of fact, anywhere near the staircase while the Order had a meeting. Mrs. Weasley called it protection. They called it unfair. As they were sneaking out of their room and into the upstairs corridor they met Ron's younger sister Ginny, who had already settled herself on the staircase's first landing. She was huddled in a woollen blanket and waved at them to come closer quickly.

"Aren't you supposed to be in bed sleeping off your cold?" Ron whispered to her in mock surprise. 

Ginny smirked. "Would you be able to sleep with all that noise?" 

"Shhhh!" 

Hermione motioned at them to be quiet and leaned forward slightly, trying to catch what was being said downstairs.

" … obviously seem to have failed to notice that I owe any explanations to _you." Snape was just saying in a low voice that showed both signs of aggression and slight fear. No surprise to the listeners on the landing; their unloved Potions Master had always tried to avoid any direct encounters with the disfigured auror, a fact that had provided them with material for endless speculations over the last year._

"You know, we would all sleep a lot easier with some more sound background information." Arthur Weasley sounded slightly defiant and was backed up immediately by his wife. 

"It's not that we don't trust you, Severus, it's just …" Her voice trailed off, the owner obviously at a loss for words.

"Except that we don't." The clanking sound of a wooden leg indicated that Moody was moving closer to Snape, who was nearby the banister now, trying to slowly but steadily edge his way towards the door.

"You probably won't believe this, but I could not care less about your trust", came Snape's curt reply. Determined he headed for the entrance door. The four teenagers caught a glimpse of his long black robes billowing in their characteristic fashion before he was pulled back physically and thrust against the wall directly beside the staircase. Hastily they clambered up again and out of sight, peeping through the gaps in the banister now. Mad Eye Moody was living up to his nick name, the magical as well as the normal eye staring wildly at the other wizard, fists clenched into Snape's revere. 

"You must understand their fears". Dumbledore's voice came as a surprise to Harry and the others. They hadn't even known he was here today. "You worked for the other side for quite a considerable time and they fear that you might double-cross us like you are double-crossing them."

"They fear?" Snape rasped a little due to the very close grip Moody kept on him. "Or do _you fear that as well, Albus? You know me. You know why I changed sides. You of all people shouldn't question my faithfulness." There was a hurt air to the younger wizard's voice._

Dumbledore sighed. "Yes, I know why you changed sides. What I do not know, however, are your motives for joining Voldemort in the first place."

"Exactly", Mad Eye interrupted, giving his rather helpless quarry another push against the wall. "We don't know why you did it the first time, so how can we know it won't happen again? How can we be sure it was not _you_ who sabotaged our previous move?"

"You will just have to take my word for it", snapped Snape, trying to sound aloof but failing because of the slight quiver in his voice.

"I'm afraid that's not going to be enough this time, Severus", said Dumbledore quietly.


	2. Chapter 2: Unexpected

_Chapter__ 2:__Unexpected___

With his back literally against the wall, a very angry Mad Eye Moody at his throat and Dumbledore openly taking sides with the rest of the group there was not much left for Snape to do.

"Don't beat about the bush, Albus, it doesn't suit you", he said defiantly, trying to regain his composure by straightening his back and thereby manoeuvring his neck out of Moody's range. "What do you want of me?"

On the landing above Harry quietly slipped away from the others and back into the room he shared with Ron when staying at Grimmauld Place. Somewhere in his trunk had to be his father's invisibility cloak and he had the feeling this extraordinary heirloom might come in handy once more. His set of wizards' chess was unceremoniously thrown onto the bed, followed by several books, an arrangement of remarkably ugly socks, a couple of chocolate-frog-boxes and his broomstick servicing kit. Of course, there, at the bottom of the trunk the cloak glistened like folded up layers of silvery liquid. Quickly he grabbed it and darted back towards the others, leaving the room in considerable disarray.

"What happened?" he asked slightly breathless. Ron shot him a curious look. "Where have you been? You missed Snape trying to dash towards the door and being pinned against it by Moody. Didn't think the guy could be that fast with his wooden leg." Ron grinned all over his face, making his freckles dance in a most particular way.

"Apparently the Order had planned some sort of attack against a known meeting place of the Death Eaters, but it didn't work out because by the time they got there no one was left inside the building. No information was to be found, either, and now Moody suspects Snape of having warned his fellow Death Eaters. The rest of the Order is getting suspicious, too, and Professor Dumbledore doesn't seem to be able to allay their notions just with his word. Can you be quiet now, otherwise we'll miss some important details." All of this had been distributed in under 15 seconds and with a minimum amount of air. Sometimes Harry envied Hermione her efficiency.            

The entrance hall was filled with people by now. Harry could spot Tonks, who wore her hair in blonde Rasta curls today, Bill Weasley, Mundungus Fletcher, Kingsley Shacklebolt and Hestia Jones and surely there were many more he couldn't see from where they were sitting. He knew that Lupin had to be there, too. They'd had supper together and he hadn't heard anyone leave before the others had arrived. Mad Eye Moody was just taking an enormous pleasure in staring daggers at Snape, forcing him to move away from the door and into the middle of the group just by walking menacingly towards him.

"Alastor, that's enough", Dumbledore said. "I really do not believe that Severus gave word to the enemy." The murmurs got louder as people started to discuss this statement quietly with their neighbours. Moody's only reaction was a discontented grunt. He didn't dare to utter open disagreement with a wizard as powerful and respected as Albus Dumbledore. He didn't move away from Snape either, though.

"If they move back into the kitchen we will never hear the end of the story", Ron moaned. "It's already hard to hear what they say."

"That's why I went and got this one." With a triumphant smile Harry held up the invisibility cloak. "If we stick very close together, we should all be able to fit under it."

"Trelawney would be proud of you for having foreseen this", Hermione said without the slightest hint of a smile. She was already carefully moving down the stairs, gliding down one step at a time on her rear, dragging the cloak, and thus also Harry, after her.

Shortly before they had reached the bottom step they drew the cloak over their heads, disappearing from everyone's view – except …

"Moody can still see us with his magical eye." Harry knew that for a fact, having run into the fake Moody carrying the real magical eye three years ago.

"Do you really think he feels like gazing around the room right now?" Ginny asked dryly. She had a point. It seemed like nothing short of an earthquake combined with a major explosion would make the man take his eyes away from Snape's face, which had turned a shade of pale his students had never seen before. 

"We all know you risk your life every time you attend one of the Death Eater meetings", Dumbledore said while moving in between the two glaring wizards, giving Snape some more room to move at the same time. "You have to remember, however, that the others trust you solely based on my word, because I assured them you would never betray us."

Snape remained silent. He eyed Dumbledore apprehensively and seemed to be waiting for some sort of blow.

"When they asked me yesterday on what grounds I believed you wouldn't return to Voldemort's service,"  - several of the witches and wizards flinched – " I couldn't give them an answer. At least not one that would have satisfied them."

A wide circle had formed around the two. Even Moody had retreated and watched Dumbledore as curiously as all the others. Ron's and Ginny's eldest brother Bill had his arms crossed over his chest and tapped his foot nervously on the ground. Beside him his mother had grabbed his father's arm and started chewing her lower lip. Tonks was playing with a tress of her hair, turning it from blond to black to pink back to blonde again, avoiding everyone's eyes. The others seemed to be frozen in waiting for Dumbledore's next step.

"Is that supposed to be reassuring?" Snape's voice was cold and he met the headmaster's gaze without blinking. "That your word is not good enough for them either? What do you expect me to do?" With that he turned to face each of the other wizards and witches in turn. "Do you want me to swear some sort of oath? Do you want me to drink veritaserum, so you can question me again, like you did in there for the last hour?" He pointed towards the open kitchen door with a shaking hand.

Harry wasn't entirely sure whether the shaking resulted from fear, for the look on Snape's face was one of untamed anger, bordering on wrath.

"If the information you get from me counts for nothing and so does the word of Albus Dumbledore, then I'm afraid our union will come to an end here, because I sure as hell have nothing more to offer."

"Yes, you do", piped up Tonks, who had been struggling to free her index finger from some tangled tuft of multicoloured hair for the last minute. "Just tell us how you ended up with the Death Eaters and how you came to turn against them. Trusting is so much easier when backed up by knowledge", she finished with a very uncharacteristic air of wisdom to her voice.

"Oh, that's all?" Snape sneered. "Unfortunately you happen to be the very last group of people on this planet that I wish to share this particular piece of information with."

"We are, nevertheless, the one group of people who need to know, Severus." Dumbledore tried to put a comforting hand on Snape's arm, but the younger man took a hasty step backwards, unfortunately thereby re-entering the range of Mad Eye Moody. The auror immediately seized the opportunity and both of Snape's arms, locking them in a one-handed grip behind the Potion Master's back while quickly rummaging the man's cloak for his wand.

"Let go off me!" Snape was beside himself with fury now. Forgetting his usually dignified composure he struggled hard to free himself, an effort that only resulted in Moody intensifying his grip while handing the attained wand over to Bill Weasley.

"You know, I liked the idea with the veritaserum."

When Dumbledore moved forward Harry was sure it was to interfere. It had been unusual for the headmaster to watch this display of physical aggression against one of his staff for so long.

"Here it comes", Ron breathed quietly, blowing a strand of Hermione's curly hair into Harry's face in the process. Absentmindedly Harry waved it away, nearly poking Ginny in the eye.

"Severus, I would have spared you this. I would have told them everything and you would never have needed to know." Harry knew this tone in the headmaster's voice. It was a combination of apologetic and accusing, a very special kind of resonance that normally only a mother knew how to create. By now his voice was down to a whisper and Hermione nearly slipped out from under the cloak in an attempt to catch every word.

"I never asked you about the beginning, because I never needed to know. Had you decided to relieve your heart and tell me anyway, I would have been only too willing to help you deal with the things that haunt you in the night."

Slowly Dumbledore reached inside his robes and brought out his wand. "From them", he nodded towards the people standing in the circle around him and his Potions Master, "I cannot expect the same. And I need them as much as I need you. I cannot afford to lose anyone right now, we are so few anyway. Can't you try to trust us all? And make it easier for them to believe in you like I do?"

Snape had stopped struggling and stared at Dumbledore disbelievingly. "You don't know what you're asking", he whispered. "I cannot and will not do it and nothing you threaten me with will change my mind."

"It is not my intention to threaten you, Severus." The old wizard raised his wand. "And since I obviously stand no chance to persuade you, I will have to force you."


	3. Chapter 3: Legilimens Patefacta

_Chapter 3: Legilimens Patefacta_

Snape stared at Dumbledore with the expression of an animal trapped in a cage. His eyes fixed on the old wizard's wand tip he said softly: "And I suppose you honestly believe you are doing me a favour with this. Tell me Albus, how come that every time you stick a hand into the fire for me I end up getting burnt?"

Dumbledore didn't reply and Harry couldn't help feeling that it was because he didn't have an answer to that question. Right now, in this particular moment, he didn't like the headmaster.

There were no impressive wand movements, no complicated figures carved into thin air by sparks of lightning. Dumbledore simply straightened up, fixed his gaze steadily on Snape's eyes and said in a sonorous voice that seemed to pierce Harry's ears "Legilimens Patefacta!"

"What the …" started Ron. Hermione inhaled sharply, as did almost all of the witches and wizards assembled in the entrance hall. Harry noticed Snape shutting his eyes closed and pressing himself flat against the wall as if trying to hide from the spell that had obviously just been cast on him. He, Harry, was only too familiar with Legilimens, having suffered the penetration of his mind more than once at the hands of exactly the same man he was presently on the verge of feeling pity for. 

The necessity of asking omniscient Hermione for an explanation for the added "Patefacta" was taken from him as a thin line of shiny particles made their way from Dumbledore's wand to Snape's forehead, penetrating the sallow skin without meeting any obvious resistance. A split second later they shot back out again with double the speed, expanding into an enormous bubble that hung in the middle of the hallway. Misty clouds of something raw and undefined swirled inside and an eerie light suddenly filled the room. Apart from the size and the sudden drop of temperature the appearance had created it reminded Harry very much of a Pensieve.

"I can't believe he's doing that. It's considered to be Dark Arts." Hermione's voice was almost inaudible, which was probably for the best. Silence filled the room, penetrated only by sudden sharp intakes of breath coming from the Potions Master. His eyes were still tightly closed, although that didn't seem to stop the other wizard from entering his mind, forcing painful and thwarting memories onto the surface of the shiny bubble. Snape was obviously putting up a fight, for there were beads of sweat on Dumbledore's temple. Nevertheless, the younger man was losing the battle. Blurred pictures were forming inside the bubble, faces appeared and disappeared, sounds and voices echoed as if from far away.

With a last heart wrenching sob Snape surrendered and slumped against the wall, sustained only by Mad Eye Moody and Bill Weasley who grabbed him without even looking at him. Their full attention, just like everybody else's, was on the scenes that were just beginning to form before them. Dumbledore alone still faced Snape, his eyes closed by now, his mind obviously wandering through another man's mind with a determination and a lack of scruple that made Harry shiver.

Sorry the chapter is so short; free time was a luxury this weekend. I promise I'll try to come to the interesting, tissue-worthy parts within the next week.

Thanks to all those who read and reviewed. Thanks also to my very own Potions Master, who came up with the wonderful "Legilimens Patefacta".

_Melissa Jooty: _As you can see I learned from mistakes and altered the format. I haven't really made up my mind yet if Sev will be able to forgive Dumbledore – yet another time. You'll see. J

_excessivelyperky__: If you stick with me (and if I will be able to set enough time for me to the side for finally putting all this to paper L)you will find that Severus made this experience before with members of the Order. I haven't decided yet, if I will let him return to his former master or stick with the old one. Sometimes, in my eyes, they are not that different as far as the treatment of "our favourite greasehead" is concerned._


	4. Chapter 4: Blue eyes

Author's note: In case you are of a more sensitive disposition I should give you a fair warning. This is not a nice chapter. There will be no snide remarks, no witty comments, no clever explanations. Instead there will be a lot of cruelty, violence, blood and death. So if you are not prepared for that, better don't read it.

_Chapter 4: Blue eyes_

Harry wrenched his eyes away from the look of pain on his teacher's face and directed his attention, in accordance with all the others, towards the bubble. The unstable images flickered from the third into the second dimension, lost colour and focus and overlapped each other. Dumbledore put some more effort into his spell, his hands clenched into fists, his face, however, relaxed and calm. Harry had no doubt the headmaster had had the opportunity of practising this spell.

A low moan escaped Snape's lips and suddenly the cinematic experience hit in. Clear sound, clear picture, life-like dimension – Harry found himself captured against his will by the scene that unravelled before his eyes.

A dimly lit room came into focus. Thousands of books on high shelves lined the walls and in the middle two figures were sitting at a table. The taller towered over the smaller one from which a quiet whimpering emanated. Harry tried to focus on the two people, tried to move forward like he had done inside the Pensieve, but he was not the one controlling and editing the scene this time. He would have to wait until Dumbledore chose to take a closer look. 

The creaking of a door was to be heard and a soft voice said "Come back into the kitchen, Severus. You know your father doesn't want you do be here when they are working."

A woman's face became the centre of attention, a rather thin face with large blue eyes, high cheekbones, a very pointed nose and pale lips. Glossy auburn curls framed a somewhat forced smile and made her skin appear even more ashen than it actually was.

"But Mom, she's crying!" protested a shaky little voice. 

Finally the scene expanded and showed the couple by the door, a tall, fragile woman and a skinny little boy with short black hair. The woman, evidently Snape's mother, tried to drag her son through the open door, away from the other couple and back into the unseen hallway.

"No!" yelled the man in the middle of the room who had to be Snape's father, and banged a fist on the table in front of the small figure cowering beside him. The small boy escaped his mother's feeble grip and took some uncertain steps towards the other two, his eyes opened wide in fear, his lower lip trembling. He couldn't be older than four.

"We have tried this a thousand bloody times and you still mess it up! Are you really this stupid or are you trying to annoy me on purpose?"

"I'm sorry, father." The voice definitely belonged to a girl. A face appeared out of a tangled mass of black curls, flushed from crying, and trembling hands wiped away the wet streaks that tears had left on her cheeks. She might have been pretty, had it not been for the slightly too prominent nose and the blue eyes that were just a notch too close to each other.

"I am really trying to do everything the way you showed me, but these spells are just too difficult for me."

"Too difficult?" The man's voice echoed through the high room and the little boy near the door clamped his hands over his ears. Neither he nor his mother dared to move.

"Too difficult? I had mastered those spells when I was half your age, because I – really – tried - hard."

Each word was punctuated by the sound of his open hand meeting the girl's face. She didn't even try to shield herself from his blows. She might have been ten or eleven, but she had the eyes of an old, tired woman who had seen and suffered too much. After each jolt she fixed her gaze on the book in front of her again. 

"Maybe I'm really too stupid to learn it. Maybe you should just give up on me." Her voice was barely more than a whisper.

Her father slumped back into the chair beside her, letting out a frustrated sigh. He propped his head against his right hand, his elbow resting on the table, and studied his daughter's face with furrowed brows. Shoulder length black hair fell into his face, forcing him too look through a curtain. He didn't seem to mind, though, for he didn't bother to swipe it back. His dark eyes glistened maliciously, looking down a long, yet straight nose that gave him an aristocratic look. He was as pallid as his wife.

Suddenly he noticed the two figures by the door and straightened up. Shooting his daughter a nasty look he whispered "Yes, maybe I should give up on you. Or maybe I should make a little clearer what the precise effect of that spell is supposed to be."

Waving impatiently towards his son and wife he added loudly "Come over here, you two. Actually you are not supposed to be here, but since you are, you might as well help us." 

The little boy scurried towards his sister, who put a warm smile on for him immediately as he skidded to a halt in front of her. 

"Are you all right, 'Sanna?" he asked breathlessly, stroking her slightly swollen face with clumsy little fingers. She didn't answer but pulled him onto her lap wordlessly and held him tight, pressing her face into his hair.

"Susanna is having problems concentrating today", their father explained as if talking to a big audience. "She can't focus on what she is doing, which is why our little training object here hasn't got any exercise at all today."

He pointed onto the table where an indifferent looking frog sat, looking at all of them lazily with his big eyes and then turning his back on them to face one of the book-covered walls. The little boy tried to pat him, but his sister quickly snatched his hand away, watching her father nervously.

"Now, I've been thinking, maybe practising that spell on a frog is not exciting enough for the young lady. Maybe she needs a bigger challenge." The frog was impatiently swept from the desk.

He took his wife by the hand and positioned her in front of the table. Then he turned around and bent down, his face mere inches from his daughter's away. She pressed her little brother even closer to her chest as if trying to shield him from those cruel eyes.

"Your mother and I will demonstrate now what the outcome of this spell is supposed to look like." His wand appeared in his hand as if from nowhere and his voice sounded surprisingly shrill as he yelled "_Imperio_!"

As his wand jerked upwards and then swung down in a sharp arch again, his wife started bashing her forehead against the tabletop, again and again, until her pallid skin cracked open and blood added an unpleasant tinge of colour to her otherwise pasty face.

All this time Susanna had been pressing her little brother's face to her chest, covering his ears with her hands, while she herself stared at her mother with open revulsion.

"Thank you, my dear." Her father's voice was all silk now as he reached out to stroke a few strands of hair out of his wife's eyes, carelessly smearing blood across her cheek. There was a strange contentment in his eyes and something else that almost bordered on tenderness.

"So, your turn." He spun around to face his children and swept the little boy out of his sister's protective embrace with one swift motion. As he put him on the ground in front of the girl, he quickly ruffled the boy's smooth hair before flashing him a toothy smile that stopped shortly before it reached the eyes.

"Surely your little brother will gladly offer you the same assistance that your mother was so kind to show me. No, no, Severus, stay where you are." The child had tried to turn around and look at his mother, but his father quickly stepped between the two, blocking his wife from view. She was still smiling, though, absentmindedly licking away some of the blood that had trickled down onto her upper lip.

Snape's father looked at his daughter expectantly. "Let's go then. Take up your wand – there you go – aim it straight onto him and then – one, two, three …"

She didn't move. Her wand rested limply in her hand, aiming nowhere in particular. Silent tears were rolling down her face as she did her best to still smile at the little boy encouragingly. Then she slowly let her arm sink down. The wand dropped to the floor. 

"You stupid, pathetic, brainless, useless excuse for a witch!" This time his hand was not open, but clenched into an angry fist. Yelling all kinds of obscenities he showered his elder child with blows and kicks, striking without any clear aim and without the slightest sign of mercy. 

When it was over, the slumped form on the floor held only little resemblance to the girl that had protected her little brother only minutes before. Blood covered the floor, her father's shoes and hands. Her face was hardly recognizable anymore. Apart from her eyes. Those blue eyes, just a notch too close to each other, stared at the ceiling blankly, tears still oozing out silently. 

"'Sanna?" the little boy asked carefully, taking a few hesitant steps towards the lifeless form. "'Sanna, are you all right? Do you want me to help you?"

He sank down next to her, dipping his knees in her blood, and touched her shoulder.

"Did I do something wrong? 'Sanna, please, don't be angry with me. I'll do it right this time. We can try it again. Can't we, father?"

He turned around just in time to see his father walk out the door. His mother pulled him up and tried to lead him away from the dead body that had been his sister. Dully he got up and followed, taking cautious little steps, evidently lost in thought. Shortly before they had reached the door his eyes opened wide and a silent whimper escaped his little mouth. He turned on his heels, ran back and crumpled down beside his sister, sobbing violently. His voice got louder and louder as he screamed himself into a fit.

Harry felt something wet on his shoulder. As he turned around he saw Hermione's face covered in tears. She had clamped both of her hands over her mouth to muffle her sobs and the tears were flowing all over her hands, dripping onto her knees – and onto Harry.

He could understand her. There was a big lump in his throat, too, and his eyes felt sore. Ron seemed a little paler than usual and Ginny had hidden her face against her brother's shoulder. This was definitely more than they had asked for.

_Deep inside his mind, in a little corner far out of everybody's reach, Severus Snape clenched his fists and bit down on his tongue so hard that he tasted blood. He would not let them see how his father had made him help digging the hole at the far end of the garden. He would not let them see how her body had been dumped in there unceremoniously, like a dead cat's. He would not let them see how earth had started to cover her face, how the hole had been filled up and she had disappeared from his view forever._

_He would not let them see._

_He would not let them …_


	5. Chapter 5: Cats and Owls

_Chapter 5: Cats__ and _owls____

Harry rummaged his pockets for a handkerchief. When he found one, crumpled but unused, he offered it to Hermione who accepted it gratefully. None of them dared to utter a sound. When he looked back into the hallway he saw that Mrs. Weasley had sat down, pale in the face, leaning against her husband much like her daughter on the stairs was leaning against her brother. In another chair sat Lupin, nibbling nervously at the skin beside the nail of his left index finger. He looked decidedly anxious.

Inside the bubble short, clip-like scenes flashed by. The old Snape trying to drag his screaming son into the library. Fights in an immaculately clean kitchen, during which the father shouted a lot at both, wife and son. A change of location. Something that looked like a dark cellar – or a dungeon. Things slowed down and voices became discernible again.

Many of the books had obviously been moved from the room upstairs into the cellar, as well as a table and two chairs. In the right corner of the room a cauldron simmered over a fireplace and all kinds of jars and tins lined the shelves there. The boy was older now, at least six, but still surprisingly small. His hair had grown and kept falling into his face. With an impatient wave he swiped it back behind his ears while dissecting something that looked disturbingly like a kitten. His father sat at the other end of the table, writing labels and putting them on freshly filled jars.

"Father?" The voice was so quiet that it was almost inaudible. "Sir?"

The old Snape raised his head and fixed his cold eyes on his son. "What? Are you feeling nauseous again? Do you want to take another break?" He hadn't said it, but there was a definite threat that this should better not be the reason for the interruption.

"No, I'm fine. And I'm almost done", the boy added hastily, holding up a blood-dripping organ and daring to show a proud little smile. His father nodded and bent back over the labels again.

"What is it, then?"

"I was wondering, sir … I'm almost seven by now and …." His voiced trailed off and the little courage he had been able to muster obviously threatened to leave him. Quickly he drew a deep breath and said "I was wondering when I would be starting school, sir."

Without looking up his father replied "What do you think this is, son? And you have started already two years ago."

The small blade stopped slicing muscles and sinews, even though the boy's head stayed bent over the dead kitten.

"I always assumed I would attend the normal school, like the other children. At least for the first few years, before going off to …."

"Your mother and I have decided that it's better for you not to mix with muggle children, even though other wizarding families don't seem to mind."

He stood up, strode over to the shelve, placed the labelled jar on an empty spot and then turned to ruffle his son's hair.

"You have shown the first signs of magical talent so early, Severus, it would be a crime not to focus on that." 

For the first time his voice seemed to hold something like pride and he even found an encouraging smile for the boy who was just carefully readjusting his dishevelled shock of unkempt hair.

"Besides, what do you want to learn in a muggle school? Reading? Writing? Calculations? You could most likely lecture those dim-witted muggle-teachers." 

The man chuckled silently to himself as if he had just made an exceedingly funny joke.

"But Susanna went to school when she was …"

The boy had no chance to finish the sentence for his father had already grabbed him by the collar of his well-worn and untidy little robes. Their faces only inches away from each other the man whispered in a deadly voice "I told you never to mention her name again. And I'm pretty sure I told you more than once. Does your memory need refreshing?"

Without waiting for an answer he took the boy's right hand and dunked it into the cauldron's simmering contents. The child bit his lip to keep from screaming out loud. A little whimpering sound escaped him nevertheless. 

"You will finish with this one and prepare the next. Then you may come up and let your mother have a look at your hand."

With that his father marched out of the dungeons, leaving the door open and whistling silently to himself while climbing up the stairs.

Biting back the tears that clearly were threatening to overcome him young Snape put the attained cat-organs into empty jars, filled them up with liquid, wrote the labels and placed them carefully on the edge of the table. Then he walked over to a basket in the corner near the fireplace, opened the lid with his burnt right hand and reached inside with his left. Without watching he pulled out another kitten, set it on the tabletop and pointed his father's spare wand at it.

"_Avada__ Kedavra", he said with a slightly cracked voice. The kitten fell over without a sound. Still biting his lip he turned the tiny body tenderly on its back, took up the blade again and started cutting._

Harry heard a retching sound coming from the direction where he presumed Tonks was leaning against the wall. There was no time, however, to watch the others' reactions too closely, because new images were already forming, and this time Harry recognized the scenery. This was Diagon Alley.

A presumably eleven-year-old Severus Snape was walking along the street at his mother's hand. His father was nowhere to be seen, which might have been the reason for the boy's relaxed posture and the big smile on his face. His features were different somehow, and not just because he had grown quite a bit. It seemed that his nose had been broken at least once and nobody had cared to fix it properly. Right now he was desperately trying to pull his mother towards _Eyelops Owl Emporium. She, however, seemed to have other plans._

"No, Severus, first things first. We will buy your books now and while I stock up on your father's potions supplies you will stay at Ollivanders, choosing your wand."

"Do I have to go alone, mother?" 

The boy seemed to be absolutely horrified by that idea, yet his mother was too determined to give in to his big frightened eyes and the hand that grabbed hers tightly.

"Yes, you have to, and no discussion. Come on, Severus, you are a big boy by now. You will be leaving for your first year in Hogwarts in a couple of weeks and there you'll have to find your way on your own as well."

She pulled her scowling child after her and into _Flourish and Blotts. Once inside she handed a familiar looking list over to the man behind the counter and then turned around, walking through the shop slowly, scanning the titles of the books closest to her. Suddenly she gave a happy little shriek, dashed into a dark corner of the shop and returned with a triumphant smile, cradling an enormous volume in her arms._

"Your father has been looking for this for ages", she explained breathlessly as she showed the cover to her son. He gave the book a half-hearted glance, his mind presumably still torn between the highly frightening prospect of having to face Mr. Ollivander alone and the highly enjoyable prospect of buying an owl. His mother added her precious catch to the pile of books on the counter, paid, packed up and left the store. Hurriedly he followed her.

Their next stop was in front of the shabby-looking place that sold the best wands in all of England – _Ollivanders._

"Here you go; you shouldn't need more than that." With that his mother pressed a few golden shimmering coins into the boy's hand.

"I will pick you up here when I'm done. Wait for me inside or out here, I don't mind, but don't go anywhere else. Is that clear, Severus?"

The boy nodded, gazing longingly after his mother as she strode up the street again, her hair shining in the sun, her curls dancing with every step. He sighed, put his hand on the door handle, sighed once more and entered the shop.

A tinkling bell sounded and nearly made him jump out of his skin. Guardedly he looked around the tiny room, stuffed with narrow boxes and filled with a strange dusty smell. From behind one of the huge piles he heard a soft voice. 

"Young Severus Snape, I presume?" 

A white-haired head with pale, almost colourless eyes appeared around the corner of the towering boxes, followed by a small and thin yet upright body.

"I am happy to see that, even though your father is using a Gregorovitch creation himself by now, he decided for you to buy your wand here. Very happy indeed."

The constant smile on Mr. Ollivander's face seemed to unnerve the young boy, because he started fidgeting from one foot to the other. The old wizard had noticed, because he said "Ah, well, well, there's no need to become nervous. All young wizards have to be chosen by their wands and until now everyone has survived."

He blinked with one of those misty eyes and tempted the anxious boy into a smile. Together they went into the process of measuring the future wand-owner from head to toe and after a while a long-fingered hand gestured towards a specific pile of boxes. A green container shot towards them, landing precisely on Mr. Ollivander's outstretched hand. After opening it with a dramatical gesture the shop owner said "I should be very much mistaken, if this isn't the perfect choice for you." 

Since he was looking at the wand rather than the boy it wasn't exactly clear who the comment referred to.

"Oak and deer heartstring, eleven inches, very subtle and flexible, however, not that easy to direct. Give it a wave."

He took a few cautious steps behind the counter, seemingly ready to dodge, in case the wand decided differently than its creator. He had chosen well, however, for a little shower of silvery sparks erupted from the wand's tip, bathing the boy, who wore a big joyful smile now, in its light. Six gold Galleons and a wrapped-up package were just being exchanged when Snape's mother entered the shop. Mr. Ollivander's smile seemed to freeze as they exchanged the usual pleasantries and he stared after the couple thoughtfully for a while after they had left his shop.

Once outside the young boy dutifully relieved his mother of some of her many packages and started skipping along the street beside her, talking excitedly.

"It was not bad at all, mother, just like you said. He was really nice, that man, and I have the greatest wand ever! Do you want to see? It's made of oak and …."

"Severus, we don't have time for that now. Your father will be already waiting for us and I really want to give him the book that I found", his mother interrupted him, starting to walk faster, now that she didn't carry the main load anymore. There was an expectant smile on her face and she hardly looked at her son.

"But, mother, what about the owl?" He had stopped dead in his tracks, because she had just stormed past the shop with the many beautiful birds in the window, sleeping in their cages or peeping at him from under their wings with one eye.

"I'm sorry, Severus, but after buying that extraordinary book there's just not enough money left for an owl. Maybe we'll do it some other time."

She had finally noticed that he wasn't following her anymore and turned around impatiently.

"For the beginning you can just use one of the school owls to send messages to us, and when you come to visit us for Christmas we'll talk about it again, all right? Besides, be glad that we bought a wand for you. In my opinion you could just as well have kept on using your father's old one."

She wasn't even looking at him but kept fondling the book in her am with a loving hand. Judging from the look on his face there was a silent discussion going on inside the boy's head. In the end he trotted up towards his mother and followed her without another word, his head hanging down, while she smiled happily, completely lost in thought.

Thanks to all of you who read and reviewed; I promise I will try to take many of your comments on board.

Since I will be away until Wednesday and will probably have no access to a computer *shriek*, this will most likely be the last update for the next week. I'll keep on writing, though, using the old-fashioned pen-and-paper-method. By now I am curious myself where this story is going to take me.

Happy Halloween to all of you!


	6. Chapter 6: Farewells

**Chapter**** 6: Farewells**

Harry dared to leave out a very quiet and relieved little sigh. At least there had been no more blood sharing in this last memory, and even though it had not exactly been a nice one, it hadn't been too bad either. He knew what it felt like to be treated like a nuisance, like something bothersome, had survived it for years, in fact. On the other hand, he had never been treated like that by his own mother. 

The next scenery was familiar as well. Hundreds of children were running this way and that beside a long scarlet steam engine. The sign above the wrought-iron archway read_ Platform Nine and Three-Quarters and just a few metres to its left a very intimidated Severus Snape tried to catch up with his parents, who strode along the platform gracefully, a dark wooden trunk drifting lazily behind them. The two grown-ups had reached a group of daunting-looking witches and wizards, dressed in discreet yet obviously first-rate robes. _

"What a pleasure to meet you here", one of the women was just saying in a low and somewhat erotic voice as the boy finally caught up with them. His face was slightly flushed from running, yet he did his best to imitate his father's proud stance. 

"So, this is your son", the woman continued after embracing his mother delicately and stretching her hand out to his father, who kissed it nonchalantly. She bent down a little, almost touching the boy with her long, silvery-blond hair, and brought his face up with two of her ring-clustered fingers.

"You should really cut his hair sometime, or don't you want people to see his face?" 

With that she released him and snapped her fingers delicately at someone behind her. Immediately a teenage boy with shoulder-length flaxen hair appeared, bowing elegantly at everyone in the group and afterwards looking at her expectantly.

"This is our son Lucius. Lucius, this is …." She threw a questioning look at the older Snape who answered with a pompous smile "Severus."

"This is Severus Snape. It's his first year at Hogwarts and your father and I would appreciate it very much, if you would have an eye on him."

"Of course, mother." 

His voice was soft and even, indicating that the worst part of puberty already lay behind him. His silky hair framed a fresh and smooth face and he presented a row of incredibly white teeth as he smiled confidently at the dark-haired boy before him. 

"Let's get your trunk on the train, shall we?" He whipped out an impressive wand, dark as the night and at least thirteen inches long, and started directing the trunk into the waiting train. His newly appointed protégé followed him uncertainly.

"So, they are sending you to Hogwarts after all." Lucius Malfoy threw the boy a curious look as they entered the train and stored away the trunk.

"What do you mean?" The returned look was filled with equal curiosity.

"Well, you know, with your father having been a Durmstrang student …." He left the sentence unfinished, obviously amused by the puzzled look on the younger boy's face.

"Personally I think you are better off like this. Durmstrang is supposed to be the coldest place on the planet. No decent lighting or heating, excessive physical exercising …" He made a dramatical pause, leaning down towards the boy and whispered into his ear "And they still use curses and beatings instead of detention."

Obviously he had hoped for a stronger reaction, for when the boy just stared at him without flinching he frowned a little, shrugged his shoulders and went on.

"Of course at Hogwarts we have the disadvantage of a crazed, muggle-loving Headmaster. I assume your father at least told you about Albus Dumbledore?"

"He has mentioned the name once or twice", the younger boy answered, looking at his shoes and avoiding the other one's eyes. As other students suddenly dashed past them, laughing and chasing each other through the aisle, he pressed himself against the nearest wall with a look of barely hidden panic on his face.

"You're not really used to people, are you?" 

The voice of Lucius Malfoy sounded a lot kinder than before as he put a reassuring arm around the trembling child's shoulder, leading him out of the train again and back onto the platform where their parents were still chatting.

"Everything is packed away, mother", he informed the tall blond woman, still clutching the dark haired boy to his side and giving everyone in the group an appealing smile. 

"He will stay in our compartment for the journey. I'm sure Crabbe, Goyle and Avery won't mind."

All around them parents started to pull their children into more or less tight embraces. Last advice was given, last admonitions repeated for the presumably hundredth time.

"Well, I guess everything is settled then." 

His mother embraced Lucius warmly, kissing him on the cheek and immediately wiping away the hint of lipstick that had rubbed off onto his face. 

"Time to say good-bye again. The holidays are always over too soon."

She squeezed his hand once more before taking a step to the side, leaving father and son a moment to exchange a firm handshake. The current Lord Malfoy was a tall, broad - shouldered man with brown curly hair and a pleasant smile. Obviously Lucius had inherited his looks from his mother.

"Send us an owl tomorrow to let us know how the trip was. And also about any interesting newcomers into Slytherin house." 

With that he nodded towards the younger boy, padded his son on the shoulder and turned to offer an arm to his wife. The Snapes had already started to walk into the direction of the gate, talking animatedly. They held each other lightly around the waist and seemed to all the world like a couple freshly in love.

Their son stared after them disbelievingly for a while as if waiting for them to turn around and at least wave at him. They didn't. 

"Come on, it's time to go," Lucius said over his shoulder as he entered the train. The younger boy didn't seem to hear him, wiping half-cried tears from his eyes and pushing strands of black hair out of his face.

"Hey, eagle-nose! Do you want to be left behind?"

Finally he turned around and walked towards the only halfway familiar person left on the platform. As he clambered onto the train the older boy gave him an affectionate push against the shoulder.

"Don't be sad. As far as I can see, things can only get better for you."

At this they smiled at each other for the first time and headed towards their compartment side by side.

This Lucius Malfoy was nothing like the cold-hearted, sadistic man that Harry had had the misfortune to encounter a couple of times. His smile seemed to be honest instead of calculating and cruel and in his eyes there had been a genuine interest in the other boy.

But then, it was also hard to believe that this insecure and nervous little boy with his soft dark eyes was supposed to turn into Hogwarts' most loathed teacher.

Obviously some time had passed, for the young Snape was settled comfortably in a window seat now, looking out at the landscape shooting past while absentmindedly pushing one of Bertie Bott's Every-Flavour Beans into his mouth. Half a second later he grimaced, a disgusted look on his face.

"What kind did you have?" asked one of the elder boys eagerly. He looked kind of beefy and seemed to be definitely too heavy for his size.

"I have no idea", answered Snape slowly and in a thoughtful voice. "I only know that I'm glad I never had to eat something like that before."

His comment was rewarded with laughter and he dared to flash a mischievous smile at the others. His eyes rested on Lucius Malfoy for a while until the older boy stared back pointedly.

"Anything the matter?" he asked with a mock frown on his face.

"No, not really." Snape kept on looking at him. "I was just wondering why you are being so nice to me."

Two of the other boys started giggling, but Lucius silenced them with an impatient gesture.

"You are not really used to being treated nicely, are you?"

Snape didn't answer, but he didn't avoid the other one's eyes this time, either.

"Well," Lucius continued, "first of all, because my mother told me to. And you always have to be a good boy and do what Mommy says, isn't that true, Goyle?"

The beefy boy who had asked Snape about the taste of his bean before went shiny red in the face and made an effort of wiping some non-existent dust off his robes.

"Second", Malfoy went on, "it's nice to have something like a little brother for a while, to explain things to that are already familiar for me. One of my cousins did that for me when I first came to Hogwarts and I'm glad that I can do it for you now. After Julian died I thought I wouldn't have the chance."

With that he started suckling on a Liquorice Wand and stared out the window thoughtfully.

There was a little pause and an awkward silence filled the compartment.

"Julian … was your bother?" Snape finally found the courage to ask. Lucius nodded silently. Then, suddenly, he took a deep breath, flashed a smile at Snape and said cheerfully:

"He was a clever little boy. And cute as well. Dark curly hair like my father. Unfortunately he was as magically talented as a teapot, so they burnt him when he was seven."

His smile seemed forced and he pulled at his Liquorice Wand so hard with his white teeth that it snapped in the middle. Snape stared at him in disbelief.

"He was _burnt?" His voice was down to a whisper, his eyes silently asking for an explanation, any kind of explanation. _

"Yes, burnt", Lucius answered, his gaze fixed on the dangling piece of sweets in his hand. "That's what pure blood families do with inadequately talented children; they get rid of them. Julian had the chance to conjure himself out of the fire. Father and I had trained him for exactly that for long enough. But he couldn't. So he died."

His eyes were cold now as he looked at Snape.

"Your father used a different method, as I heard."

The younger boy looked out the window again, hiding his face behind a curtain of black hair.

"You don't have to be ashamed. It's the same for all of us", one of the other boys said while resting a hand on Snape's shoulder. "You should be proud, because you are the one who survived. You are one of the strong ones."

Outside it grew darker and the lights inside the train flashed to life. The compartment door was opened and an older boy pushed his red-haired head inside.

"We'll be arriving soon. You should start getting ready."

Without waiting for a response he closed the door again noisily, walking on towards the next compartment.

"That was Dad," Ron whispered somewhere behind Harry. Of course. The red-headed boy had seemed familiar, even if they had seen him only for a few seconds.

Obviously also Mr. Weasley had recognized himself. He wore a puzzled look on his face as if trying to find out why he couldn't remember that moment in his presumably last Hogwarts year. Or maybe he was still shaken by the pure-blooded concept of eliminating not adequately talented children. Harry certainly was.


	7. Chapter 7: Of Hats and Houses

**Chapter 7: Of hats and houses**

All of a sudden the bubble went pitch dark. Harry was confused for a second. Maybe something had gone wrong with the spell. Maybe Snape had found a way of putting up adequate mental shields. Dumbledore, however, seemed totally relaxed, so Harry decided to wait. What else could he do?

The rest of the Order looked a little shaken. Tonks had stopped fiddling with the colour and texture of her hair and had taken a seat next to Lupin. Right now she was busy changing the size of her nose from tiny to huge, tugging at the tip nervously with her right hand while reaching out to Lupin with her left to stop him from nibbling his finger bloody.

Mad Eye Moody was luckily still captured by the sight bubble and didn't even think of glancing around the room - or at the grown-up Snape, for that matter, who still hung limply between him and Bill Weasley, face twisted with exhaustion, anger and pain. Bill, however, gripped the Professor's arm more firmly and threw him a glance full of loathing that surprised Harry. Judging from the glum look on Mrs. Weasley's face it came as a surprise also to her. Harry would have liked to share that observation with his friends and remark on it, but it was still too quiet in the room and he didn't want to risk getting caught right now.

Suddenly a voice pierced the darkness inside the bubble, a very familiar voice that had made Harry shiver with anticipation more than once. It was the Sorting Hat.

"Hmmm, well, well, well. What do I do with you? Where do I put you? There shouldn't be that much darkness already, you're way too young for that, you know? Maybe Hufflepuff would make you relax a little and help you to look at the bright side of things. But no, that would be too boring for you, wouldn't it?

A lot of knowledge and still more curiosity I can see. Well, that is good for all the houses, and I don't think you need Ravenclaw to help you on a way that you have already found yourself. 

Now, what about Gryffindor? Maybe they could balance that dark spot and reach out a hand before you fall any deeper. But then, they wouldn't, would they? You don't really fit with them. Not exactly an outgoing person, are you?

I see passion and determination, intelligence and a basically good heart, ambition, devotion and loyalty. I see also fear, however, and despair. You're a loner, little one, aren't you?  No, I shouldn't force you to move away too far from familiar shores. Best to put you into …

SLYTHERIN!"

There was the usual amount of applause as the Sorting Hat was lifted from the dark little head. The Great Hall was packed with students as it was during every sorting ceremony. A few nervous First Years were still standing in the front row, waiting for their turn, as Snape walked past them on shaky legs, heading towards the Slytherin table. Just as he passed the Gryffindors a handsome boy leaned over to his rather ruffled-looking opposite neighbour and said in a voice loud enough for everyone to hear:

"Boy, am I glad this weirdo didn't get sorted into our house. Can you imagine having to share the dorm with something that looks like that? Probably hasn't washed his hair in weeks."

He made a big show of sniffing the spot of air Snape had just vacated and wrinkled his nose in disgust, waving imaginary fumes away.

At the table beside Tonks Lupin turned from pale to slightly pink as he blushed up to his ears. Harry had recognised the self-confident stance and voice that had once belonged to his Godfather as well and felt ashamed. The two boys sitting beside each other opposite Sirius hadn't said a word to defend Snape and one of them definitely didn't fell good about that right now. The other one, just like Sirius, didn't have the opportunity to show or utter regret anymore.

Lucius Malfoy welcomed the young Snape at their table and nudged a girl gently in the ribs to make her move a little to the side.

"Narcissa, stop sulking and make some room for Severus. Maybe your precious cousin didn't get sorted into the right house, but with this chap we made a pretty good catch as well, I'm sure."

He smiled warmly at the slightly shaken boy and then redirected his attention towards the ceremony, which was just now coming to an end.

An eager silence fell over the room as an impressive looking wizard with a long white beard raised himself from his seat at the centre of the teachers' table. Albus Dumbledore wore enchanted robes of midnight blue with stars twinkling and bats chasing each other on its surface. Nevertheless he looked impressive as he spread out his hands in a welcoming gesture and addresses new and old students alike.

"It is my pleasure to welcome all of you to another year at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. The Sorting Hat made some very interesting, yet surely wise choices and I am looking forward to see the development of the houses and their new inhabitants.

But enough of feeble talk. Dig in!"

With that he raised his glass and the tables filled with unbelievable amounts of food that were attacked heartily by students and teachers alike.

At the Slytherin table a young black haired boy gazed up at Albus Dumbledore in amazement, obviously captured by the cheerful twinkle in those blue eyes and the enchanting smile that he seemed to bestow upon everyone in the Great hall at the same time. As their eyes met the older wizard smiled more broadly and the boy hastily lowered his gaze onto his plate, flustered.

"Don't be fooled by that, eagle nose." Lucius Malfoy had leaned over to him and piled potatoes and pork onto his plate.

"He's always like that in the beginning, but when harsh decisions have to be made he will always take sides with his precious Gryffindors. Sometimes I think coming from a pure-blood family is a deficiency in the eyes of the headmaster."

Snape didn't comment on that, but his eyes hushed towards the teachers' table ever so often, eying the old wizard with a mixture of awe and apprehension.

The feast suddenly seemed to be over. Prefects called out for the First Years of their houses to gather round them and be shown the way into their common rooms and dormitories. Albus Dumbledore walked past the Slytherin table and stopped beside a lost looking Snape who had just been separated from Malfoy, Goyle, Crabbe and Avery and forced into a huddle with twelve unfamiliar other First Years who seemed to be decidedly less scared than him. 

"So, you are the boy that is not a girl after all." Dumbledore smiled down at him and blinked. Confusion met his gaze, shining up from a set of almost black eyes and the boy dared to utter a quiet "Excuse me?"

"Didn't your parents tell you? We sent out a first letter to you already six years ago, by that time believing that you were a girl. Your father sent a … relatively polite note back, informing me that, even though you were without any doubt bright and talented enough to enter Hogwarts at the age of five, he would prefer to wait until the decent time had come and there would be no mistaking, even for me, that you were a boy."

Dumbledore shook his head in amusement, chuckling to himself.

"One of the very few mistakes Minerva ever made in sending the letters. But now we finally have you here, Mr. Snape, and of course we expect great things from you after so much praise already at the age of five."

The boy had started clenching and unclenching his fists, staring up at Dumbledore with a silent plea in his eyes.

"Is anything the matter, son? Anything that you want to tell me?"

"First Years, over here, please! We're leaving, so try not to lose the group. I will surely not wonder through the dungeons looking for you in the middle of the night."

Glancing uncertainly from Dumbledore to the impatient prefect the boy finally shook his head.

"No, sir, but thank you for asking."

Dumbledore nodded and with a final smile he left. Snape hurried to catch up with the prefect and his classmates. As he passed the Gryffindors standing nearby he heard the same loud and self-righteous voice that had already taunted him before.

"So, you were supposed to be a girl. Maybe that's why your face looks so strange, because nature couldn't decide what to do with you."

He stopped, throwing a glare over his shoulder at the three giggling boys. Then he walked on without a word.

"You would have made a really ugly girl, you know. So maybe this is for the better", Sirius yelled after him, still laughing.

Harry wished his Godfather hadn't said all those things. He wished his father or Lupin would have said something to stop him, would have interfered somehow. But most of all he wished that Dumbledore had looked more deeply into the pleading eyes of that anxious boy.


	8. Chapter 8: A merry little Christmas

**Chapter 8: A merry little Christmas**

The next stop on the memory train was again platform nine and three-quarters at King's Cross station. It couldn't be the beginning of the summer holiday's, though, because snow covered the ground and the people waiting for the train were huddled in thick winter cloaks, scarves and gloves. Students were running towards their waiting parents, being gathered into outstretched arms and showered with affectionate kisses. All students apart from one boy. A stout looking woman with greying dark hair was glaring down on him, her arms folded disapprovingly across her chest, her voice harsh and shrill at the same time.

"I don't think I've ever been this disappointed in my whole life. What the hell did you tell that bloody hat to be sorted into Gryffindor?" 

She spat out the last word in disgust, looking even more appalled than before.

The boy in front of her mumbled something under his breath, which seemingly didn't help to calm her anger.

"Now, where is that other boy?" she asked impatiently, grabbing him by the collar and pulling him along beside her. "That … something … Snape?"

 "Snivellus?" the boy asked, now equally appalled. "Why would you want to see _him_?"

His question was answered with a sharp whack across the head.

"Because we promised his parents to pick him up as well and drop him off home, since we were coming for you anyway. So, which one is it?" 

She scanned the slowly dissolving crowd with small angry eyes. Her son pointed towards a small raven-haired boy standing beside the archway, watching passers-by with a lost and somewhat desperate look.

"That's him." 

Still dragging her scowling son behind her the stern witch swiftly walked up towards the other child. Upon reaching him she gave him a disapproving look before she addressed him.

"You are Snape?"

The boy nodded, crouching slightly in front of her towering posture, but looking at her steadily nevertheless.

"Your father asked me to take you along. He didn't have time to pick you up himself. Come."

Without another word or glance she stormed through the gate, her son trailing behind her by his collar, the other boy following as fast as he could. Outside the station a huge dark limousine waited for them and before either of them could say "Pumpkin juice" the two boys found themselves beside each other on the backseat as the car sped off at an insane speed. Snape slid as far into his corner as possible, while Sirius slouched into his seat with an expression of utter revulsion.

"Your parents don't even have time to pick you up, Snivelly? Looks like they don't really want you here, doesn't it?" 

The handsome face was twisted by a cruel smile as he eyed the other one, waiting for a reaction. When there was none he added:

"Well, that's not really surprising. Nobody wants you. Not here. Not at Hogwarts. Nowhere. Doesn't that hurt?"

The smaller boy's lips curled into a sneer that was to become famous in later years.

"And how does it feel to be the biggest disappointment in your mother's life, Black? She didn't seem overtly happy to see you, either?"

Sirius turned a bright shade of red. His brow furrowed as he obviously tried to think of a witty remark. When he couldn't find one he turned his gaze towards the window and busied himself with watching the dark streets flashing by. They didn't speak another word until the car stopped with screeching brakes. The door on Snape's side opened without a sound. His small bag suddenly appeared beside the left back wheel and after he had got out the car sped off again.

He picked up his bag carefully, glanced up towards the one lighted window in the dark house before him and walked towards the huge wooden entrance door.

He had to ring the bell twice before his mother finally opened, greeting him with a warm but somewhat distant smile. Her eyes seemed to have trouble focussing on him and a big dark bruise on her right cheekbone made her face appear a little bizarre.

"Severus! You are already here. We nearly forgot about you coming today." She turned around and walked inside again. Her son followed her, sighing quietly, but with an excited little smile on his face that made his dark eyes shine.

Shivering slightly he entered the living room on the first floor, where his father sat in front of a blazing fire in a heavy armchair of dark red velvet, reading a book. His mother was just settling herself on the chair's armrest, curling up against her husband's side comfortably and smiling at her son.

"Good evening, father", the boy said quietly while placing his bag on the floor and slowly walking towards his parents. 

"Thank you for arranging a lift for me."

His father put the book to the side and looked at the boy as if he had trouble remembering who he was. Then a smile flashed across his face, as usual stopping shortly before it reached the eyes, and he got up from his chair, nearly pushing his wife to the floor in the process.

"Severus!"

He swept the boy into his arms with a swift movement. The little face lit up with happiness and the boy placed his arms around the man's neck carefully. He practically trembled with joy.

"I heard you've been sorted into the same house as Malfoy's son."

The boy nodded, smiling proudly.

"Yes, father. I'm a Slytherin, just like Lucius and I'm already head of class and Professor Dumbledore said he …."

"Dumbledore?" 

His father put him down onto the round living room table rather harshly, pulling up a chair for himself and settling down on it, watching his son closely.

"What did Dumbledore have to tell you? What did you talk about with that old fool?"

The boy frowned a little, obviously disapproving of his father's spiteful voice and the headmaster being titled an old fool.

"He told me I was doing very well and that my parents should be proud of me. I earned a lot of house points for Slytherin and maybe we'll even win the house cup", he added, a hint of pride in his voice.

"So, Albus Dumbledore thinks he can tell me what I'm supposed to do and what not to do."

The boy shrank away from the deadly whisper and the balled fists, throwing a worried glance towards his mother who was now joining them at the table. She put a reassuring hand on her husband's trembling arm, humming an incoherent melody quietly under her breath.

"Well, boy, you can tell him that it takes a lot more than good marks and a few house points to earn a Snape's respect!"

He breathed heavily, obviously trying to restrain his raising anger.

"I told you Not. To. Touch. Me. Without. Asking."

Before either son or mother could react the old Snape had pushed his chair back and grabbed his wife by her beautiful long hair, forcing her to crouch down onto the floor. As his arm flung upwards, his hand clenched into a fist, the boy suddenly jumped from the table, clinging to his father's arm and looking up at him with big angry eyes.

"No! Don't hurt her. She didn't do anything wrong."

His father stared at him disbelievingly while his arm slowly sank down. The boy let go off him and sank down beside his mother. Slowly, tenderly he straightened her dishevelled curls.

"That's what you learned during the last four months? To deny your father the respect that he deserves? To question my judgement?"

Fury was blazing in the older man's eyes. He gave his wife a casual kick in the ribs, while stroking her hair at the same time. Then he grabbed his son by the arm and pulled him out of the room, up the stairs and into a small chamber with a little bed, a dusty desk and an enormous bookshelf. All the time the boy struggled to free himself from the grip, clutching doorframes and pieces of furniture with his free hand to stop his forced voyage towards punishment.

Once inside the room his father pushed him onto the floor, whipped out his wand and yelled "_Crucio!"_

The child's whimpering was pitiable. He crawled under the bed in a vain attempt to escape the hot searing pain that rushed through his body only to be pulled out again by the leg.

When his father finally murmured the counter curse he had taken out a heavy black leather belt from under his robes and slapped it against his left hand playfully.

"I will teach you more valuable lessons than that old fool. Lessons that you will need to survive in that crazy place. Lesson number one: Never stand up for people who can't stand up for themselves."

The belt whistled through the air and met the boy's back with a thud.

"Lesson number two: Never rely on others to help you. Nobody will."

Another whistle, another thud.

"Lesson number three, and this is a really important one: Never, ever, think you can tell your father what to do. Never, Ever."

The belt came down again and again until the cloth of the boy's cloak ripped under the constant strain. His skin didn't hold out much longer.

After what seemed like an eternity but probably wasn't longer than a couple of minutes the old Snape straightened up, a little out of breath, and wiped the stained belt on the bed covers.

"Get yourself cleaned up and then come down. Supper should be ready in about half an hour."

Once his tormentor had left the room the boy crawled onto the bed, wincing with every move, and started to undress slowly. He managed to strip off his cloak and shirt with some difficulty before he passed out from pain and shock.

Dumbledore's face twitched slightly and Harry couldn't help thinking that this was not exactly what the headmaster had wanted to see. Maybe he hadn't known all this, either. Maybe omniscient Albus Dumbledore had lapsed in his concentration at one point and now regretted it dearly. He didn't end the curse, however. Little beads of sweat were slowly making their way down his temple, past the still closed eyes. Harry would have given his right arm for a glimpse inside the headmaster's head right now. But then, he already had enough to do with the glimpse he was getting into his teacher's head right now.

Author's note: Thank you so much, all of you who read and reviewed. You guys are incredible! 

Now I'm sure it was a wise decision to finally start writing publicly. You really push my creativity and I promise I will try to repay you by updating fast.


	9. Chapter 9: Letters and Lessons

**Chapter 9: Letters and Lessons**

"I think I'm going to be sick", Ginny murmured somewhere behind Harry.

"Then get a grip on yourself", her brother hissed back at her. "You can't leave now. You move and they'll notice us and we'll have hell on earth, if they find us here."

Harry had to agree with his friend and he turned around to nod at the pale girl apologetically. When he met Ron's eyes he was startled to find a fascinated expression on his best friend's face. Could it be that Ron was enjoying this?

No, he had to be mistaken. Ron despised Snape like every Hogwarts student who was not in Slytherin – with the possible exception of Percy Weasley – but he was of a too good-hearted nature to seriously wish anyone ill.

Besides, Harry had to admit to himself that, despite feeling sorry for his teacher and being shocked by the headmaster's unexpected behaviour, he wanted to find out the rest of the story as well. Even if it meant that he wouldn't be able to hate Snape anymore. At least not with the same vigour.

Inside the bubble the familiar Hogwarts grounds had returned. Snape was sitting in the Great Hall at the Slytherin table, lost in a book, absentmindedly nibbling at a piece of toast.

"You'll never grow, if you keep eating like that", Goyle informed him, munching heartily on an enormous piece of pancake dripping with honey himself, taking up most of the space on the bench.

"Don't disturb him", laughed the honey-haired girl beside him. "He's reading up on our Defence Against the Dark Arts homework."

She reached across the table, inadvertently knocking over a pot of sugar, and ruffled the boy's hair affectionately.

"Lucius was right, you are a good catch. With you in our house I'll never have to do a single piece of homework myself anymore until I leave this blasted place."

The younger boy smiled at her. After a moment's hesitation he reached inside his schoolbag which lay on the floor beside him, rummaged through its contents and after a few seconds produced an elegant mug, formed liked an opening lily and set with shiny pieces of something that looked like dragon skin. He offered it to the girl shyly, giving her an embarrassed smile.

"I know it's a little late, but … Merry Christmas, Narcissa."

She accepted it gracefully, looking at the present in silent wonder and granting the boy one of her most beautiful smiles.

"It's incredible, Severus! Thank you. I feel very honoured."

She turned it around carefully, admiring it from all sides, before she got up.

"I'd better take this up to the dormitory before someone breaks it."

With a nasty look at Goyle, who had just knocked over his glass of orange juice for the third time in a row, she rushed off, clutching the mug protectively against her chest.

Lucius Malfoy had got up from his place at the far end of the table, settled himself beside the slightly flustered boy and looked at him curiously.

"Wasn't that the Christmas present you made for your mother in Transfiguration? You told me you chose an especially fine turtle to make it."

Snape kept flicking through the book resting against a pitcher of milk in front of him and didn't look up.

"I didn't feel like giving it to her after all", he muttered. "And I don't think she would have appreciated it the same way that Narcissa does."

Lucius leaned onto the table, placed his head on his folded arms and glanced at his young friend from the side.

"I may assume then that your holidays were far from pleasant?"

His question was answered with a shrug and a surely involuntary little sigh.

"I'll try to get you over to our place for the summer holidays, Severus, I promise. At least for a couple of weeks. All right?" 

There was compassion in the older boy's voice and a considerable amount of concern. He kept glancing at his quiet neighbour until dark eyes finally met his pale blue ones and a grateful smile crept across the child's face.

"That would be fantastic."

They nodded at each other once more before picking up their bags and heading towards the door. Halfway there Snape's heavy shoulder bag slumped down his arm and crashed onto the floor, spilling out its contents. Cursing silently under his breath he bowed down, stuffing books, quills and parchment back inside. As he straightened up again a shadow fell over him and he spun around.

"No need to be anxious, Mr. Snape, it's just me, and I'm running a little late myself."

Minerva McGonagall smiled down at him, her thin lips curving upwards ever so slightly. There was less grey in her hair and a few less wrinkles around her eyes, but apart from that she seemed unchanged to the undercover agents on the stairs. There was an amused touch to her voice when she added:

"I'm surprised, however, at your choice of words, young man. I can't imagine you learned those expressions in our honourable halls. Nevertheless, we should hurry up. There's no use in both of us being late for class. I'll be generous, though, and give you a head start so you'll have a chance of reaching the classroom before me."

She gave him a playful shove against the back, adding a motherly "Off you go!" when to her surprise the boy flinched and drew a sharp breath, obviously in pain.

"What's that, Mr. Snape? Did you get hurt?"

She was already reaching towards his neck, trying to pull down his collar there.

"It's nothing, Professor", he answered hastily, squirming unsuccessfully to get out of her reach. 

"I fell off my new broom when trying to fly it for the first time and hit the branches of a tree. Nothing serious, really, I'm just a little bruised still."

By now she had managed to take a glimpse at his neck and shoulders, nearly strangling him while tugging at the collar of his robes and shirt, and took a sharp breath as she saw the angry red marks shining on his pale skin.

"A little bruised! "she exclaimed, her voice shocked and slightly angry. 

"This is more than a little bruised, child! And I'll eat your new broomstick if those marks were caused by branches."

She grabbed him gently by the shoulders and turned him around to face her, ignoring his scorn and defensively raised chin.

"Who did this to you? Another student? Mr. Malfoy?"

"Lucius would never do something like that! He's my friend! If he had been there …" 

He quickly shut his mouth, apparently shocked by what he had let slip, and stared at his shoes instead of his teacher, effectively hiding a very distressed expression behind a curtain of black hair.

"Very well, Mr. Snape. I'll take you to the hospital wing now, so that Madame Pomfrey can have a look at your back and maybe ease your pain a little. You are excused from Transfiguration today. And afterwards I think you should have a little talk with the headmaster."

With that she led him off to the hospital wing, keeping his little hand clasped in hers, shaking with silent anger. He didn't try to struggle or argue.

In the hospital wing Madame Pomfrey was equally shocked by the state of the child's back, stroking his cheek compassionately ever so often while taking care of the whip marks as well as several bruises and an apparently cracked rib. The boy endured all this without a word, staring blankly at the wall and ignoring any questions the nurse asked.

She was just closing up the last of her many tubes and pots when Albus Dumbledore entered the hospital wing, a concerned look on his face. He walked up towards the tiny figure and sat down at the foot of the bed cautiously, helping the boy to put his shirt back on with a steady hand. Snape didn't look at the old wizard, but his lower lip was trembling slightly and his hands grasped the seam of his shirt in a tight grip.

After almost a minute of silence Dumbledore said quietly:

"Your father was not one of my students. He was educated at Durmstrang, as far as I know. Your mother, however, was one of my children. Ravenclaw as far as I remember."

The silent figure beside him didn't answer but kept staring down at his own hands, which were still working nervously on the cloth.

"I only ever met your father once", Dumbledore continued, "when he picked up your mother after her graduation. She seemed to be very much in love with him and I really endeavoured to be happy for her. However, to be honest, I didn't like the way he looked at her, the way in which he spoke to her. He has a hot temper, your father, doesn't he, child?"

Still the boy wouldn't be tempted into answering. His eyes, however, were fixed on the headmaster's face, daring him to go on talking. The old wizard accepted the dare.

"Children need boundaries and rules; I know that as well as anybody else. Sometimes punishment is the only way to teach a child that crossing the line will inevitably have consequences. Beatings, however, will never find my approval as an adequate means of education. No human being deserves to be whipped, beaten, kicked or to be physically mistreated in any other sort of way. Especially not a child."

He risked to lay a hand on the boys arm and was rewarded by seeing the slender frame relax slightly. 

"I will send a note to your father, asking him …"

"No!" There was panic in the child's eyes as well as the voice, all calm fleeing his body instantly.

"Please, sir, there is really no need. It's not the way you think. We were just … it was … he's really not like that."

Tears of desperation started to gleam in his big dark eyes as he clasped the headmaster's hand worriedly.

"It will never happen again, I promise. Please don't write to him" the boy pleaded.

"I really don't think you can promise something like that, child", Dumbledore replied calmly. "Because it's not up to you. Don't worry, I will be very subtle and discreet, your father will never know what caused me to write that letter. I will mention your excellent results here at school and require after your mother, no subjects to be concerned about. Leave it to me, all right?"

The child didn't even look remotely reassured but clung to the headmaster's arm instead as if preventing the old wizard to leave the hospital wing forever would solve the problem.

"Please, sir, you don't know what he's like. He will know. He always does. He knows everything."

Dumbledore gently freed himself.

"Nobody knows everything, dear boy. And everybody should be ready to learn a lesson once in a while."

With that he left the hospital wing and a shuddering Severus Snape who sat on the tiny bed, his back rigid, his eyes opened wide in fear, scratching his arms mechanically with his fingernails until the skin cracked open.

He has done the right thing, Harry thought. Of course he has. If a student is being mistreated by his parents, he as the headmaster has to interfere. How many times had he himself wished Dumbledore show up at Privet Drive and have a good long talk with the Dursleys. This letter would surely change things for Snape.

A little relieved he kept on watching as the hospital wing disappeared and the Great Hall was again to be seen inside the bubble.

Supper was obviously just over, for there were empty pots, tureens and plates everywhere and students were talking animatedly about Quidditch, homework and the coming Hogsmead weekend. The plate in front of Severus Snape, however, seemed untouched and the boy stared unhappily into space. 

"Cheer up, Severus", Lucius told him. "Dumbledore wrote that stupid letter more than a week ago. If your father had been angry, you would have suffered the consequences by now."

He smacked the boy against the shoulder playfully and grinned. Snape sighed and gave him a half-hearted smile in return, finally picking up his fork and listlessly poking at a baked potato. Suddenly a swishing sound was to be heard as dozens of owls in many different sizes swooped into the Great Hall, carrying various packages and letters.

"Finally they made it through the storm", exclaimed Narcissa cheerfully as she caught a huge catalogue and an edition of _Witches Weekly_, which had nearly landed on her empty plate.

A tiny dark owl was fluttering above the crowd, obviously looking for the owner of the square little package she was carrying. Finally she scooted down and landed right in front of Snape, holding out her leg so he could untie the string with which the package and a letter were attached. The boy's face had turned a shade of pasty white as he loosened the cord with shaking hands, accepting both package and letter. The owl took off again.

Slowly, as if dreading something terrible, he opened the letter and read the short note.

_Have you already forgotten our lessons again? _

_Never rely on others to help you._

_Never tell your father what to do._

_Maybe we should add another lesson, and just so you will remember it better this time, I attached a little reminder to this letter._

_Lesson number four: Never admit weakness. You never know who might get hurt by that._

His whole body was trembling as he reached out and opened the parcel. The lid came off easily and inside lay, on a delicate but bloodstained silken scarf, a female finger, the nail painted bright red. Biting back tears of anger and frustration the boy packed both letter and parcel into his robes, stood up slowly and walked out of the great hall with steady steps. Outside, out of everyone's sight, he started running down towards the dungeons and into the Slytherin common room. He scurried to the boys' bathroom, dashed into the nearest cubical and started throwing up violently.


	10. Chapter 10: Promises and Presents

**Chapter 10: **Promises****** and presents**

For Ginny that was it. Covering her mouth with a trembling hand she clambered to her feet, large eyes flashing at the others ruefully, slid out from under the cloak and sped up the stairs as quietly as she could. Harry had no doubt she would do now as Snape had done a little less than 30 years ago.

Luckily there was a similar commotion downstairs. A witch that Harry recognised as Emmeline Vance had fainted and her stout body hit the floor with a thundering thud. Kingsley Shacklebolt and Dedalus Diggle hurried to help her, picked her up with combined efforts and carried her off towards the nearby sofa, their faces red from the struggle. We should be thankful for her weak nerves, Harry thought. Her collapse had effectively covered up for Ginny's frantic flight.

As he looked over to Hermione on his right side he saw that she was biting her fingernails. The index finger of her right hand was in a pathetic condition already and she was just working her way over to the middle finger. Gently he took her hand in his and directed his attention back towards the bubble.

In McGonagall's office four boys were standing in front of the Professor's desk, two of them looking down onto the floor, the other two glaring at each other spitefully.

"Gentlemen, I can only say I'm appalled", McGonagall said while she leaned onto the tabletop and looked at her students with narrowed eyes.

"What on earth made you think hexing each other –"

"But he started –"

"-in the middle of a corridor –"

"You cheating liar, I never – "

"-filled with other students –"

"I'll get you on the train, Snivelly!"

"- just before leaving towards the station would be a good idea?" she finished, unimpressed by the boys' shouting. Unimpressed, but clearly annoyed. 

"Do you realise that Mr. Filch's first day of the summer holidays will be spent cleaning the corridor down to the dungeons, trying to get the burning marks and various yet unidentified liquids off the walls and floors?"

Her mouth was a thin line and her voice had risen to a painful volume. Finally she had their full attention as obviously their punishment was about to be announced.

"I will not make you stay and help him clean now; there's no use in making you miss the train. The new term, however, will include cleaning services for all four of you, in addition to your regular duties. Whenever our respected caretaker asks you to be of assistance, you will comply with that request without hesitation or protest. Is that clear?"

Four heads nodded in agreement. Only the boy furthest to the right dared to ask:

"But that surely doesn't go for all the term, does it, Professor?"

He risked throwing her a normally captivating smile, which bounced off the still angry Professor without any effect.

"Of course this arrangement will last for the whole coming term, Mr. Black."

She waved an impatient hand towards the door.

"And now off you go. Hagrid will already be waiting for you."

The boys shuffled out of the room, the smallest and skinniest of them bringing up the rear. As he was just about to close the door McGonagall called after him:

"Mr. Snape?"

He turned around and looked at her anxiously.

"I will inform neither your parents nor the headmaster of this incident. But do try to keep out of trouble on the train. I suggest you try to find a compartment as far away as possible from the Gentlemen Potter, Black and Lupin."

He nodded and smiled at her.

"Thank you, Professor. Have a nice holiday."

"The same to you, Mr. Snape."

Gladly following his teacher's suggestion Snape hurried to find his fifth year friends. He let out a relieved sigh as he found them waiting for him outside the train, throwing angry glares at Black and his gang. Crabbe seemed about to hold out a leg to make the younger boys trip, but Lucius held him back.

"Everything sorted out?" he asked his slightly breathless friend when they entered the train together and headed towards the compartments the older ones had already reserved.

"Yes, don't worry. Next term I'll have detention until I'm blue in the face, but at least she won't tell Dumbledore. Or my father."

The boy threw himself into a window seat, a gloomy expression suddenly settling on his face like a dark cloud.

"Don't make a face like you ate a bogey-flavoured bean, eagle nose. I told you I would take care of things, didn't I?"

The dark-haired boy glanced up doubtfully at his older friend who had a mischievous smile on his attractive face.

"We'll be taking you from the station to your place this time, so you won't have to endure the presence of that Black-git again."

Malfoy gracefully ignored the angry kick against the shin that Narcissa gave him and went on.

"And you'll spend the last two weeks of the holidays at Malfoy Manor. Your father seemed delighted by the idea of not having to take you to the station himself this time. And now get out off my seat. Who says you get to sit next to the window every time?"

With a triumphant grin he grabbed the broadly smiling Snape around the waist, pulled him over to the aisle-seat and made himself comfortable in the thus attainted place.

"How did you …? When did …? He is really ok with that?" the younger one stuttered happily, obviously still doubting his luck but honestly trying to believe in it.

"It is very hard, practically impossible, to deny the polite request of Lord Malfoy", explained Lucius in a mock-aristocratic voice.

"And it is even harder, therefore totally impossible, for Lady Malfoy to refuse a request of her most favourite son. It was easier than I thought", he went on in his normal voice.

"Mother has obviously taken a liking to you and she didn't really need to be persuaded. The rest was just writing a few letters and waiting for a positive reply. I thought I'll show you a few interesting places during those last two weeks and in exchange you help me with my essays. Does that sound like a good deal?"

Snape was grinning from ear to ear.

"Sounds like a perfect deal."

The elegant limousine stopped outside the Snapes' residence just as the entrance door opened. This time both father and mother welcomed their son, who was accompanied by Lord and Lady Malfoy, at the gate and both wore a proud smile. 

"Thank you so much for dropping him off", the older Snape said in his silkiest voice while kissing the Lady's hand.

"It was our pleasure", she replied, retreating said hand and resting it on the boy's head, playing with a few strands of his dark hair thoughtfully.

"He is a delightful child, your Severus. Lucius is really fond of him and I trust my son's judgement. He has an eye for people."

With that she leaned down to face the boy, giving him an unexpected view into the cleavage of her impressive bosom. She placed a finger under his chin and redirected his gaze from her chest to her eyes, smiling. He blushed.

"I'll be seeing you in a couple of weeks then, little one. Don't forget to write. Lucius will be missing you thoroughly."

The blond teenager leaning on the stone garden fence blushed as well, throwing his mother an embarrassed scowl. Quickly he regained his nonchalant composure, though, and waved at the smaller boy.

"See you, Severus."

The car made its way out of the yard again noiselessly and the boy was still standing in the doorframe, waving.

"Come inside, Severus, it is getting cold", his mother whispered into his ear and pulled him inside gently. As he glanced at the hand resting on his shoulder he noticed that the index finger was missing and drew a sharp little breath.

"I'm so sorry, mother", he whispered back, stroking her hand and the scarred piece of skin tenderly.

"Don't worry, my dear. Your father told me I would help to teach you a valuable lesson. He knows what he is doing. I never question him. And neither should you."

With that she closed the door behind them and walked up the stairs slowly, throwing a smile over her shoulder at her confused and slightly shaken child.

"He probably took your trunk into your room already. Just go and check. When you are ready come into the living room, we'll be eating in about an hour."

The boy stood in the dark hallway for a few more seconds, glancing around at the well-known walls and pieces of furniture, breathing in familiar scents and half-buried memories. Then he skipped up the stairs, taking two steps at a time and dashed into his room. He found his trunk at the end of his bed and his father waiting for him by the window, his back to the door.

"I do not appreciate receiving letters from muggle-loving headmasters implying that I mistreat you or your mother", said the shadowy figure without turning around.

"Not even if the same letter tells me that you are head of your class and exceed the staff's highest expectations. I think I made that clear with my late Christmas present to you and am confident that we will not have to discuss this matter any further."

He turned around slowly and looked at his trembling son with cold eyes.

"I do, however, appreciate letters coming from influential pure-blood wizards telling me that my son has obviously been well educated and gives me reason to show pride in my abilities as teacher. I compliment you on your choice of friends, my son."

A thin smile spread across the man's face. Nevertheless, when he reached towards something large and slender leaning next to him against the windowsill his son immediately retreated a few steps towards the door, obviously expecting punishment in spite of those complimentary words. 

"Now, now, Severus. There's no need to be afraid. Would I punish you without a reason?" his father asked silkily, holding out what turned out to be a broomstick.

His son took a few hesitant steps towards him, reaching out for the offered broom cautiously.

"For me?" he asked.

"Of course it is for you", the man in front of him replied as he handed the present over with a content smile.

"You did really well and deserve a reward. Your mother informed me that from the next term on you will be allowed to have your own broomstick and to apply for your house's Quidditch team." 

His voice sounded a little uncertain like he didn't really know what to make of this information but was proud of the conclusion he had drawn nevertheless.

"Thank you, father" the boy replied, still staring in wonder at the unexpected gift.

Leaving the room the older Snape laid a casual hand on the boy's shoulder and said:

"Supper is almost ready. I suggest you get yourself cleaned up and change before joining your mother and me at the table."

The boy nodded as he placed the broom carefully on his bed, stroking the twigs gently.

"Afterwards" his father continued "we'll head down towards the vault to resume your studies. I don't want you to spoil the good impression you have made on Lord Malfoy. There are still some curses you need to practice. I will ask your mother to join us."

With that he disappeared down the stairs, lost in thought, obviously already structuring his coming lesson. He didn't even hear his soon kicking his trunk fiercely and flinging his new broom against the wall with a mangled scream of frustration.

A/N: Actually this chapter was supposed to be longer, but with the necessity of earning money cutting down on my writing time this is all that I could manage today. Since I left you waiting in vain yesterday I thought this would be better than nothing. *grin*

Please keep on reading and reviewing. You guys are great!


	11. Chapter 11: Summer at Malfoy Manor

**Chapter 11: Summer at Malfoy Manor**

Outside the sun was shining brightly and Severus Snape kept pacing nervously from one window to the next.

Living room. 

Library. 

Up the stairs into his room.

Down the stairs into the kitchen. 

Up the stairs into the living room again. 

He pressed his nose against the glass, leaving a little greasy spot, and sighed. His father, sitting in his usual armchair reading the "Wizarding Gazette", let his paper sink down on his knees and sighed as well.

"Can you stop wandering around and sit still for five minutes?" he asked exasperated. 

"If you feel that you have too much energy inside you, we can go down to the vault for another training duel."

The boy sat down hastily. He had chosen a chair very close to the window, however, and positioned himself on the very edge of the seat so that he was still able to glance out onto the street, if he raised his head high enough. His fingers started drumming against the wooden windowsill and his father was just throwing him an impatient glare, searching his robes for his wand, when there was a soft _pop outside and the boy jumped to his feet._

"They are here!" he yelled, running towards the door and down the stairs, nearly knocking his father over who had finally risen from his chair.

A split second later the doorbell rang mournfully. Lucius Malfoy still had his index finger on the brass push button when a pale and scrawny dark-haired boy ripped the door open with a vengeance. He was smiling all over his face and apparently fighting the urge to hug the blond teenager with similar fervour.

"I guess you've been expecting us", grinned Lucius as he bowed slightly to Snape's mother who was just coming to the door.

"Sorry we are late. Crabbe here couldn't be persuaded to leave without a rather large breakfast and then we had a little trouble with the Portkey – Narcissa insisted on wearing it."

He held up a bright red straw hat and gave the girl on his right an irritated look. She smiled apologetically and shrugged her delicate tanned shoulders.

"Red?" Snape asked her in fake shock. "Narcissa, that's the colour of the enemy!"  

She giggled and her face tried its best to imitate the hat's colour.

"Are you ready?" interrupted Crabbe who was still munching on something that might have been a muffin once, but had melted into an undistinguishable chocolate-coloured lump in his big sweaty hand.

"All packed up?"

The boy nodded and started to head back towards the stairs, presumably to get his trunk, but ran into his father who had noiselessly come up behind him. The smile on his face was imperceptible but undeniably unpleasant. Narcissa's smile froze and Crabbe tried to hide his little snack behind his back, smearing brown gooey bits all over his robes in the process. Severus hastily unfurled from his father's dark-crimson velvet cloak and retreated, his head hanging down, a soft, "Sorry, father" escaping his lips. A large long-fingered hand came to rest on his shoulder and he tried not to show how painful that grip obviously was.

"Master Malfoy, if I remember correctly."

It had been more of a statement than a question, so the teenager just bowed respectfully. The smile he flashed afterwards was a little more elegant than the one he had given the man's son, but definitely less warm.

"It is good to see you again, sir. I hope you and your wife are both well?"

His voice dripped with politeness, his eyes, however, flicked over to the woman's right hand before facing his opposite again. She quickly hid her hand inside her long green robes.

"Yes, thank you, Mr. Malfoy. I assume you came to pick up Severus. Your father didn't join you?" the older Snape asked, craning his neck around the doorframe and scanning the street outside.

"No, sir, he had an urgent owl from the Ministry and left way before breakfast. He sends his compliments, however, along with a dinner invitation for the coming Saturday."

The face of Snape's mother lit up and an almost girlish smile took nearly ten years off of her, while her son at the same time looked as terrified as if Filch had just told him to clean the Gryffindor common room. The older Snape inclined his head slightly to the left, not looking at the other members of his family but intensifying the grip on his son's shoulder.

"We are very honoured. Very honoured indeed, Mr. Malfoy. However, we must decline. We are not very social people and especially my wife feels a little bit … uneasy around larger groups of people. Isn't that right, my dear?"

She had just been about to protest, having already taken a little step forward, but her husband's words combined with her son's imploring look at her made her change her mind.

"Of course, darling. I wouldn't feel comfortable and thereby spoil the fun for everyone else. But thank you very much for the invitation, please tell that to your father and mother, Mr. Malfoy."

Her voice was a little tight, like from suppressed tears. Her smile, however, remained unchanged as she pulled her son into a clumsy embrace, whispering into his ear:

"Have fun, Severus, promise that to me. Enjoy every single minute of it. And then write me a letter about it, all right?"

He clung to her tightly for a few seconds, then, probably remembering that his friends as well as his father were watching, let go off her and nodded.

"I just have to get my trunk", he explained towards the others at large and stormed up the stairs, wiping a few tears from his face. He came back, dragging the heavy trunk after him, just in time to see his father let go of Crabbe's hand with a disgusted expression on his face. There was chocolate on his long fingers and he seemed on the verge of loosing his temper.

"It was very nice meeting you, sir", Narcissa twittered, pushing Crabbe out of view and facing the older man with her sweetest possible smile while twisting a lock of hair around her right index finger. Lucius smirked and reached out to help the heavily breathing boy with his trunk.

They placed the rather shabby looking case onto the gravel covering the front yard and waited for the others to join them. Crabbe waved a smudgy hand at the couple by the door, Narcissa did a curtsy which earned her another smirk and rolled eyes from Lucius, and before the young boy had had a chance to say another word of goodbye the front door had closed again.

"I guess he was right about them not being exactly social", Crabbe said in a moment of wittiness and looked at the youngest member of the group with a smile that might have been encouraging had there not been bits of dark chocolate on his front teeth, making him look like he had lost them in a fight. Snape tried to stifle a laugh. The others didn't.

Content, because being under the false impression that they found his remark hilarious, Crabbe wiped his hands on his robes once more and then reached out to get a grab on the Portkey. Judging by the smug look on his face he still hadn't realised his mistake by the time they popped back into existence at Malfoy Manor.

Harry grinned broadly, which felt relaxing after furrowing his brows for so long. Yes, that looked and sounded exactly like a Crabbe. Obviously there hadn't been any kind of evolutionary improvement from the last generation to the current one and somehow Harry highly doubted that this would change in the future.

Suddenly he realised he was softly laughing along with the group of young people inside the bubble and stopped immediately. Laughing with them somehow made him part of the group and he sure as hell didn't want to be part of a group containing Snape. Or the Malfoys.

Then he consciously looked at the house in that memory for the first time – maybe mansion would have been the better word for it – and gasped. It was incredible! If Draco Malfoy had grown up in a place like that, no wonder he was such a spoiled and arrogant little brat.

Three storeys high with a wonderful slated roof Malfoy Manor stood amidst a magnificent garden. Ivy covered the grey stone walls, patches excluded only where large windows looked onto seemingly endless seas of well kept lawns and flowerbeds. Further to the back a little forest was to be seen and there was even a lake. A small fleet of house elves was working on the garden as well as the building, pulling out weed, cutting the grass, sweeping, cleaning and polishing. By the look on the young Snape's face the boy was equally impressed. He let out an amazed little whistle as he followed his friends into the house.

Lucius and the other teens stormed into the hallway, Snape's trunk trailing between them, with the air of people who were used to seemingly self-cleaning surroundings. Their shoes left muddy spots on the freshly wiped floor and Crabbe left a small trail of cookie crumbles in his wake. Severus wiped his shoes on the floor mat and raised a surprised eyebrow as a house elf bowed low in front of him, muttering thanks for the courtesy and transforming the floorboards into an immaculate surface again with a few swipes of his cleaning rag. 

Slowly, his eyes wide with wonder, he followed the others through the hallway into a bright room with high ceilings, lemon yellow wallpaper, several chairs and couches and a big fireplace at the far end. Lady Malfoy stood beside the latter, arranging something on the mantelpiece, when the group bustled in.

"Mission accomplished!" her son announced triumphantly and dropped onto one of the dark leather couches, pulling Narcissa after him and forcing the red hat onto her blond hair. His mother smiled and walked over to the lost looking boy on the threshold, her hips swinging slightly, and reached out for him. With a gentle hand she directed him towards a big velvety armchair where she settled herself on the armrest as soon as he had sat down. Her ring-clustered fingers played with his hair again as she looked at him thoughtfully.

"Finally there you are, little one."

Her voice seemed to send shivers up and down the boy's spine for he shuddered slightly and threw Lucius a help seeking look. His friend leaned back against the black cushion, accepted a glass of juice from one of the house elves and smiled.

"I think he is not used to that much … positive attention, mother", he informed her in a matter-of-fact tone. A casual slap stopped Crabbe from grabbing yet another cookie out of the seemingly bottomless pockets of his robes.

"Maybe we better get up to our rooms first. I'll show him around, explain a few things and maybe then we can take a little tour on the brooms."

His mother looked at the smaller boy thoughtfully, finally releasing his hair, which made him sigh in relief.

"Yes, you are right, darling. He looks like he could do with some sun on his face. Have you been inside all summer, little one?" she finally addressed him directly.

"Yes, I have. Father likes me to help him on his projects. And I like helping him", he added hastily as a disapproving scowl crept across her face.

"I learn a lot from him and … at least that way we get to spend some time together."

He busied himself with studying the tip of his shoes after that statement. Lucius set the glass aside, rose from the couch, kissed his mother on the cheek and tapped the boy on the shoulder lightly.

"Come on, eagle nose, we'll give you the big tour."

Together the four Hogwarts students left the room, Lucius dragging the smaller Severus along, Narcissa following with a proud smile and Crabbe still searching his pockets for something that might interest his taste buds.

Unfortunately Harry and the others didn't get to see all of Malfoy Manor, because the picture got all blurry again, like someone had pressed the fast forward button on a video player. The next clearly visible image showed a very comfortable looking bedroom. Books rested in a neat pile on the desk in front of a window, some of them open, and dark robes lay carefully folded over the back of a chair. The shutters were still closed and on the bed only a little lump could be made out, like someone huddled together under the blankets.

Suddenly the door was opened wide, the handle connected loudly with the wall on the other side and Lucius Malfoy yelled:

"Rise and shine!"

With a nasty grin he pulled the covers away, revealing a sleepy Severus Snape in a long grey nightshirt, rolled up into a tight little ball. The boy mumbled something unintelligible and pulled the pillow over his head.

"Severus, get up! It's already after nine. Have you been up reading again all night?"

A vague little hand pointed towards the desk. Lucius lazily wandered over, dragging the bedcovers behind him, and took a look.

"Excellent!" he exclaimed. "You finished my essay for Professor McGonagall. I know how to do all that transfiguration stuff, you know, but I so don't care about explaining the theory."

He sat down on the bed and started poking the unmoving form.

"Severus, it's really time to get up. My parents are almost ready and they don't like waiting for people."

A pointy face, almost completely hidden by untidy black hair, emerged from underneath the pillow.

"Where are we going?" Severus mumbled sleepily while he tried to focus on the blond boy beside him.

"London!" Lucius answered with a happy smile. "So get your butt out of bed and into your robes. And maybe you could stop by the bathroom and consult a mirror and a comb before you get down."

With a swish he was gone. Snape rolled over, groaning, and let himself drop out of bed. He padded over to the adjacent bathroom, pulled a face at the mirror, quickly washed and combed his hair and then put his robes on. When he sprinted down the stairs, considerably more awake than before, the Malfoys were just leaving some last orders for the house elves.

"Good Morning, Severus!" beamed Lord Malfoy. "Up all night studying again, I heard? Your father really turned you into a devoted little student, I must say. Wish Lucius would take a page out of your book."

His wife gave a sneering little laugh but didn't comment in any other way. Severus blushed.

"Come, the car is already there."

Lucius pulled him to the limousine that had already picked them up from Kings Cross at the beginning of the holidays and climbed in before the younger boy. Five minutes later they were on their way to London, the two boys chatting away about teachers, homework and houses, the grown-ups talking quietly among themselves.

When the car stopped Lucius got out and gestured at his friend to follow him. Lord and Lady Malfoy smiled at him but didn't move. Severus got out, slightly flustered, and watched the car move up the street and out of sight.

"I guess we are not going with them", he stated dryly. Lucius laughed.

"No, they have a few things to settle and afterwards they'll do our shopping in Diagon Alley. Don't worry, your father sent them the money over last week" he added as he saw the younger one look up at him uncomfortably.

"In the meantime we'll enjoy the city – and some freedom. Ah, there are the others."

He waved across the street towards a group of young people. As if all of this was totally normal or at least self-explanatory he started crossing the street, a deeply confused Snape in his wake.

"Who are they?" he asked the older boy when he finally caught up with him.

"They look kind of strange with those funny clothes. And what are we going to do with them?"

"That's Crabbe and Goyle, Narcissa with her sisters Andromeda and Bellatrix, Avery and a fellow student of Andromeda, McNair, I think. And don't laugh, you'll be looking that funny as well in a few minutes. We're going into Muggle-London!"

Lucius grinned even broader when he saw the disgusted look that spread across Snape's face.

"I have to wear something like that?" he asked unbelievingly and pointed towards Goyle who was wearing dark brown cord pants and a matching jacket, complete with orange turtleneck shirt and sneakers. Goyle smiled cordially.

"Hi, Severus. Don't worry, you'll get used to it. Only feels terrible the first time."

Narcissa ruffled the boy's hair, gave Lucius a hasty kiss on the cheek, which caused the older boy to blush rather impressively, and pressed a bundle of clothes into their hands.

"If you would please be so kind and change now? We've only been waiting for you."

Lucius pulled the younger boy after him into the dead end street. While the others blocked them from view they changed into bellbottom jeans, sweaters and anoraks. Severus absolutely refused to change the shoes and Lucius finally gave in. They hid their robes behind a couple of dustbins where the others had already deposited their things and joined the waiting group.

"Ready?" the tall girl called Bellatrix asked impatiently. The boys nodded, Severus looking particularly unhappy, tugging at his jacket every few seconds and squirming uncomfortably in the tight pants.

"Then let's go."

She led the way out onto the street and into a park with long sure strides, arms linked with her sisters. The boys followed.

Harry bit down hard on his thumb to keep himself from giggling. Those kids looked so out of place, even though he couldn't decide if it was because they were wizards in Muggle-clothes or because of the dreadful 70's fashion they were wearing. Snape in jeans! Who would have thought?

The boys had finally caught up with the girls and Lucius was doing his best to coax Narcissa out of her sister's range and into taking his offered arm. Severus rolled his eyes and pushed a strand of hair out of his face with an impatient wave of his hand. The oldest of the sisters, the one Lucius had called Andromeda, let herself fall back and walked beside the boy for a while. She smiled at him from time to time but remained silent.

Suddenly she was gone. From one moment to the next she had disappeared out of the boy's view. He had not been looking for two seconds and now she was …. 

To his left a flight of stairs led underground and he could see her bounce down towards darkness. A darkness that probably led towards the other side of the street. She turned around, put a finger to her lips and smiled. He smiled back and followed the others.

When Bellatrix noticed that her oldest sister was missing she threw a tantrum, yelling at everyone in turn, especially at Snape and then sank down on a bench. Goyle tried to comfort her but she wouldn't hear of it.

"My parents will kill me! I lost her again," she said between sobs. "That's the third time in a row. Why does she always do that to me?"

"How about you just don't tell them this time, Bella?" asked Narcissa, smiling nastily at the older girl while clinging to Lucius arm. "You know, she always came back before we had to return."

Bellatrix didn't say anything but took the handkerchief Goyle offered her. When she had regained her composure she got up from the bench, straightened up and announced:

"Right. Why should we let her spoil our fun? It's Muggle-teasing time!"

"That's the spirit!" declared Crabbe and slapped her over the back cordially with a sticky hand. Liquorice dangled from his mouth and he had managed to already spill something over his set of Muggle-clothes.

Snape looked down his own jacket; there was a dark stain near the wrist. Also the pants were dirty and by the frown on his face it was obvious that he couldn't think of any way how he could have produced those stains in the fifteen minutes he had been wearing these clothes.

"Severus, are you coming?" Lucius yelled from a few metres away and the boy hurried up, understandably not keen on losing the group.

A/N: I know you guys are all waiting for something nasty or disturbing to happen. Don't worry, it will. But I thought Severus deserves a little bit of happiness as well. So be patient, have mercy – and keep on reading and reviewing. *grin*


	12. Chapter 12: Muggle Teasing

**Chapter** 12: Muggle ******Teasing**

A flight of stairs let up and out of the park onto a busy street. Cars were racing by, stopped every few metres by a seemingly useless traffic light that caused screeching brakes. Snape did his best not to look too terrified, but manoeuvred himself to Lucius Malfoy's side with a few hasty steps nevertheless. A little hand reached out to tug at the other boy's revolting jacket when Bellatrix shot him a look that could have frozen a flame. The boy gulped visibly and let his hand sink down again, staying close to Lucius and the giggling Narcissa though.

They reached one of the many traffic lights and waited obediently for the green. Snape looked bewildered.

"Green means go, red means stop", Bellatrix snapped at him from the side after she had noticed his confused stare.

"Easy enough. Muggles can understand, so it shouldn't be too complicated for you. Whose brilliant idea was it again to bring the little brat along?"

She fixed her eyes back on the traffic light again, as did "the little brat" who was failing spectacularly at not looking hurt. Lucius rested a hand on the boy's shoulder and smiled at the older girl pleasantly, his white teeth flashing.

"Severus is a friend of ours", he nodded towards each of his class mates, "and we as well as our parents decided that he would profit greatly by joining one of our little … excursions. Now, should you find his, in my view, highly enjoyable presence too bothersome, we can talk about it after we got back. Until then, I personally would appreciate it very much if you could focus your scorn on more deserving objects. Here in Muggle-London you should find them in abundance."

Neither his smile nor his tone had changed, but they had the desired effect. Bellatrix' lips turned into a thin line as she stared towards the other side of the street unblinkingly. She didn't say another word.

The lights finally changed to green and they crossed over, the fuming Bellatrix taking the lead again with long strides, Lucius and Narcissa with Snape in the middle right behind her. In a moment of daring the boy stuck out his tongue at the girl storming along in front of him and smiled at the two teenagers flanking him with a mixture of pride and gratitude.

When they had almost reached the pavement Lucius pulled out his wand casually, flicked it over his shoulder and muttered "_Luminae arbitratae_". Behind him the traffic lights started changing from red to green and back to red again without any coherent pattern, causing screeching brakes and angrily roaring engines, followed by surprised yelps. Avery, who had been bringing up the rear, narrowly avoided a big green Ford and stumbled onto the pavement, breathing heavily and glaring at Malfoy.

"Great, Lucius! Really funny! Would you mind waiting until we are all off the street next time?"

He walked off angrily, joining Bellatrix and McNair at the front. Narcissa looked pleased with her classmate and gave him another kiss on the cheek, a little less hasty this time.

Snape was still staring back at the flashing lights and the resulting chaos. He looked at his companions with a little frown on his still too pale face.

"Isn't there some kind of law against underage wizards doing magic outside of school? Especially when Muggles are around?"

"Severus", Lucius smiled at him warmly, "laws are made and controlled by people. People are also controlled by people. Let's just say our parents can afford to stretch superfluous rules a little so that we can get some first-hand experience in applying magic in a useful way."

He had put a stress on the last few words that caused the boy's frown to deepen, but Snape didn't say anything. As he looked back one last time he saw a little boy of maybe four in the middle of the street, screaming at the top of his lungs, tears rolling down his panic-stricken face. Cars were speeding past him, narrowly missing him more than once, while his mother stood on the other side of the street, wringing her hands, yelling at the boy not to move and desperately waving at the drivers, begging them to stop so she could get to her frightened child.

Snape shuddered and followed the others.

"And _that's teasing?" Ron whispered, disgust in his voice. Harry didn't answer. He had the unpleasant feeling this was just the beginning._

Goyle was rummaging through the pockets of his jacket, muttering quietly under his breath.

"Looking for something?" McNair asked coldly. 

"Actually, yes," Goyle shot back, apparently a little more harshly than he had intended for he lowered his gaze again immediately and mumbled:

"I know my Mom put it in here somewhere."

"Are you looking for this?" Bellatrix asked, one hand on her hip, the other holding a large leather pouch. Goyle frowned at her, confusion painted across his face.

"My mother decided it would be safer to put all the Muggle-money together and that I should be in charge of it. Nobody wants Crabbe to end up being sick again because he spent his part entirely on Muggle-food, I presume", she finished with a smirk.

Crabbe turned an interesting shade of red and the others laughed. That laughter finally broke the tension that had lingered around the group since Andromeda had disappeared and Snape joined in happily.

"What did you want the money for?" Narcissa asked her classmate, curiosity in her eyes.

"Nothing," he answered hastily. "Really, it's ok. I was just checking."

Crabbe grinned broadly and elbowed Snape in the ribs so hard the boy crashed against Avery.

"You wanna know what he wants to buy?"

"Phillip, I am going to kill you", Goyle muttered through gritted teeth. "Don't you dare …."

"He wants to buy a present for one of the Ravenclaw girls", Crabbe let out triumphantly, hiding behind Lucius to escape a badly aimed blow from his buddy who had turned from red to crimson. Snape took a step to the side so the other two could continue chasing each other along the pavement without accidentally pushing him onto the street. When nobody made a nasty comment about him and the mysterious Ravenclaw girl Goyle calmed down again and they walked on, entering what seemed to be the main shopping street. Narcissa left Lucius' side and trotted alongside Goyle. She was obviously dying to find out to whom he had lost his heart.

Snape was staring at the buildings lining the broad street in wonder. Taller and more impressive than the shops in Diagon Alley they held a variety of things that he had probably never even dreamed of. One large window caught his special attention and he gazed open-mouthed at the many books on display. Anatomy, Astrology, Mechanics, Mathematics, Physics, Chemistry, and there, in the other corner, Poetry and Novels. He pushed a strand of black hair out of his eyes and pressed his hands against the glass beside his face to get a better look at the wonders inside the shop.

"You know, we could just get in, that would be much easier. And you wouldn't spoil the whole window, eagle nose."

He looked at Malfoy with a wistful smile.

"Would you mind?"

The older boy smiled back at him.

"Not at all, it's one of my favourite shops as well. I'll just tell the others. Narcissa and Bellatrix will want to go to the café around the corner as usual, I guess. Goyle has to buy a present for his mysterious girl friend and Crabbe will surely stock up on his food supplies. Just hold on a second, I'll try to get some money out of Bella."

Snape nodded and then turned his longing gaze back towards the window. Suddenly he spotted a familiar face inside the shop. It was Andromeda and she was in the arms of a dark-haired young man. They were exchanging playful kisses while waiting for their turn to pay. She looked totally happy and relaxed.

"Ready to go in?"

Snape started up. He hadn't heard Lucius coming. 

"Yes, sure."

For some reason he didn't mention what he had seen and did his best to steer clear of the cash counter until the kissing couple had left the shop.

Tonks had rested her head on her folded arms and looked up at the bubble like at a romantic movie in the cinema. Her feet were swinging under her chair and she was smiling, her eyes shining. She looked stunning like that, so relaxed, and suddenly Harry realised how much she looked like the woman in the bubble. 

Of course, Andromeda was Tonks' mother. Then the young man clinging to her lips in that memory had to be Ted Tonks, the man who had knowingly married a witch and had a daughter named Nymphadora – who preferred to be called Tonks.

The two boys met with the rest of the group at the small café that Bellatrix and Narcissa seemed to like so much. Goyle was turning a little package over in his hands and refused to answer any questions concerning its contents or its future owner. A doubtful frown made him look even denser than normally. McNair and Avery were talking to each other in low voices while sipping something that looked like coffee with enormous amounts of whipped cream but seemed to contain alcohol, because their eyes were just a little too glossy. Lucius drew chairs for him and Snape and sat down beside Narcissa who was flirting with some young Muggle at the other table. Lucius glowered at the other man and took the girl's hand in his possessively. She smiled.

Snape was already buried up to his hooked nose in the book, _"The Princess Bride"_ by William Goldman, and didn't even register that a waitress placed a cup of hot chocolate in front of him.

"You bought a Muggle-book?" Bellatrix hissed at the young boy, keeping her voice down so as to not draw attention.

"Relax, Bella", her sister piped up. "Muggle-money for a Muggle-book, nothing's wrong with that. As long as he doesn't waste real money on crap like that …" 

She didn't finish the sentence and shrugged her shoulders instead. Snape looked from his book to Bellatrix, obviously puzzled.

"What's so bad about a book?" he asked in his soft voice.

"As long as you just read it for your amusement there's nothing wrong with it", McNair told him and padded him on the shoulder patronizingly.

"But don't expect any pearls of wisdom in there. Muggles are actually quite dim-witted. They are a nuisance really."

"By the way, what did the two of you do while we were looking at hollow Muggle-artefacts?" Lucius asked while playing with his wand under the table. The young man who had been flirting with Narcissa suddenly started coughing violently and people rushed over to pad him on the back. Apparently he had been eating his muffin too hastily and was now choking on a rather large bit. The blond boy leaned back in his chair and smiled contently. His wand had disappeared.

"We've been having some fun over at the crossroad", Avery answered his question.

"You know that your little trick with the traffic light is even more fun when you do it on a larger street? Some of those busses need surprisingly long to come to a halt."

The others sniggered nastily. Snape kept his face down, pretending to read the book, but his eyes didn't move.

"Oh, and remember that spell Rastaban told me about? _Serpensortia?_ That one is hilarious when you use it for turning an old lady's walking stick into a snake."

Avery pounded his fist on the table, shaking with laughter at the memory.

McNair, who seemingly didn't want to stand back, added:

"But the best thing was when we found this group of retards on a daytrip. For the half that could walk normally we used the leg-locker curse and for the ones that had trouble using their legs we decided on _"Tarantallegra"_. I think one of the nurses was very close to a heart attack."

The whole table was roaring with laughter now. Tears were running down Bellatrix' face and she looked decidedly more attractive when her mouth was not curved down and pressed into a thin line of disapproval. Snape's lips curved upwards ever so slightly at the sight of his friends in fits of laughter.

Finally Crabbe came jogging along the street and joined them, a little out of breath.

"What's so funny?" he asked panting. "I would have been here earlier, but there has been a series of accidents over at the crossroad. I think one of those Lorries was transporting something poisonous, because when I came by there were people on the ground, struggling and twitching. Naturally I took a side street then and that's why it took a little longer to get here. What?"

He stared at his classmates and friends with a deep questioning frown on his forehead as they were giggling helplessly. Even Snape had joined in by now.

"We'll explain it on the way back", he got out between fits of laughter as they moved out of their chairs and headed back towards the crowded street.

"Are you guys ready to run?" Bellatrix asked, trying to regain control over her voice by pressing her hands into her sides.

"Sure", the others nodded. "Why?"

"Because we didn't pay", she yelled over her shoulder, already halfway down the street and on her way back towards the park.

A hasty glance back told Snape that the waitress had noticed as well, because she was gesturing towards someone inside the building with an angry grimace. Seconds later a broad-shouldered Muggle in black jeans and a black shirt came stampeding through the door, murder in his eyes. Lucius caught the younger boy by the collar and stormed off with him, following a still chuckling Narcissa.

Clumsily Snape pulled out his wand from his pocket, tried to aim in spite of the jerky movements he was forced to make and shouted "_Tarantallegra_!" The spell missed the muscle-Muggle, bounced off a street lamp and hit an elderly gentleman walking his Doberman. Both dog and owner obviously were affected for they started dancing something that looked remarkably like quickstep across the street – and into their pursuer's path. The crash was spectacular and stopped the angry man as effectively as a direct hit would have done. Maybe even more so. By the look of it the Doberman had decided that the black-clad guy was the reason for its uncomfortable situation and had got a hold of his leg. 

"You learn pretty fast", panted Lucius as they kept on running back the way they had come from.

Snape grinned proudly and overtook the older boy, catching up with the others first. They smacked him on the shoulder approvingly and even Bellatrix shot him a rare smile.

"Let's get back", she got out between deep intakes of breath. "And let's hope that Andromeda rejoins us in time."

They crossed the park in a much better mood than on their way into the city centre and by the time they had reached the dead end street again Andromeda had re-appeared in their midst. The others didn't say anything, but Snape gave her a wicked smile and blinked. She returned the smile, a little confused.

From the looks on their faces Harry could guess that the members of the Order didn't think this encounter funny in the least. Mrs. Weasley frowned disapprovingly and Deadalus Diggle shook his head slowly. Lupin sat motionless at the table, his expression unreadable. Only Tonks seemed to be still very comfortable, probably revelling in the sight of her mother being so young and happy and in love.

Harry glanced over at Ron who was trying not to show his amusement as he had obviously set his mind on disapproving with anything Snape had ever been part of. Hermione looked seriously appalled.

"Come on, Fred and George have pulled pranks like that as well. Don't you remember their experiments on the first years last term? With the Canary Creams and all that stuff?" he whispered in her ear. She shot him a shocked look.

"Nobody got hurt by that, Harry", she whispered back and the discussion was closed. She had a point, he had to admit.

Back in the alley the girls changed first, the boys blocking them from view. After he and Lucius had changed back into their robes as well, Snape gave his Muggle-clothes a closer look. He frowned at the stains near the wrist and on the leg.

"Lucius, will your parents be angry? I swear the stains were there before, I didn't do anything, really."

"Relax, Severus, the stains were already there before. Do you think Muggles just give away _good clothes ", he sneered at the last words, "just like that? They need to be persuaded, and sometimes they don't like that. Just throw them into the dustbin; we are not taking them back anyway. Father will surely organise something else after the next … meeting."_

Snape didn't look reassured but kept glancing at the stains, running his hand over them.

"Do you mean that's blood?" he whispered, careful not to alert the others.

"Does it matter?" Lucius asked back and turned his back on him, closing the buckles on his boots. Snape was just opening his mouth to ask another question when Bellatrix' impatient voice told them to hurry up, she didn't have all day. Lucius rolled his eyes and ran off.

Slowly a very confused dark-haired, hook-nosed boy folded up his bundle of clothes, lifted the lid of the nearest dustbin and was just about to put the bundle in when a movement inside the container caught his eye. One of the slices of orange peel trembled and slid to the side, revealing a furry little ear. The noise coming from underneath the rubbish sounded like a baby crying.

Hastily the boy pushed the peels, leaves and tins away, exposing a very dirty little kitten.

"Severus, now!" 

Lucius sounded more than impatient. With one last unsure look he pulled the filthy cat out and closed the lid. He placed the tiny animal safely inside his pocket and hurried to join the others. The Muggle-clothes with the mysterious blood-coloured stains lay forgotten on the ground.


	13. Chapter 13: The Misses

**Chapter 13: The Misses**

The next thing Harry could make out clearly was the black carriages that took everyone but the First year students from the Hogsmeade station to Hogwarts. He was surprised to make out the Thestrals as well, looking terrifying as usual with the black coats covering their skeletons, leaving holes only for the leathery black wings. They reminded him of his frantic ride through the night time sky, when he had tried to save Sirius – but failed. He would have given anything not to see them. Why were they visible? And could the others see them, too? Then he understood: This was Snape's view on things. He had watched his sister die when he was four. Of course he would have been able to see these beasts from the beginning. 

The boy took a few steps back at the sight of the beasts, but Lucius pushed him gently onwards, towards one of the carriages.

"Don't worry, they are harmless. But don't talk about them and don't stare at them. Not everyone can see them."

Without another word the blond boy climbed in and his dark-haired shadow followed noiselessly, though throwing a nervous glance to the front of the coach as he entered. Once Narcissa and Avery had joined them Snape opened the folds of his cloak and gently pulled out the kitten he had saved from the alley. He put it in his lap where it curled up comfortably and started purring.

"You were so lucky that my parents didn't catch that … thing", Lucius told him and pointed a long finger at the animal that was just yawning widely and looked at everyone in turn with lazy eyes.

"They can't stand cats."

"And I guess that runs in the family, doesn't it?" Narcissa asked him while blinking at Snape and stroking the cat behind its ears. She obviously thought the "thing" adorable.

"I don't know, for me cats are just … dirty and … false and … and you pulled it out of the rubbish!"

The teenager shuddered, moving as far away from the purring fur ball as possible. Snape seemed unimpressed and totally content with caressing his new pet.

"We are allowed to have cats at Hogwarts and I don't think anyone will ask me where I got her from. Everybody will think she's a gift from my parents. After all", he added thoughtfully, "nobody knows my parents."

He chuckled to himself silently and ignored Lucius' death stare. When the carriage stopped he put the cat back inside his pocket and walked into the Great Hall with the others, bouncing a little bit as he entered the familiar building and found his place at the familiar table. Making sure again that his pet was safely tucked away and sleeping he glanced around at the banners decorating the room, up at the enchanted ceiling that showed the same starry night they had seen outside, over to the teachers' table. The headmaster's eyes met his and he quickly turned away from the twinkling blue, his hands gripping the edge of the table as he apparently tried to suppress anger flooding through him.

The large doors opened once more and Professor McGonagall marched in this year's new students, all of them looking terrified and impressed. There were a lot of them and the Sorting Ceremony seemed endless. Snape's stomach rumbled audibly and he looked ruefully at Crabbe on his right side. The older boy smiled at him and slid a hand into his pocket, pulling out a slightly crushed cookie which he offered to his neighbour. Snape took it gratefully and started nibbling at it while watching yet another boy being sorted into Ravenclaw. That house would be bursting this year. 

Inside the boy's pocket the cat had started to purr loudly, attracting the attention of one of the elder Slytherins.

"Are you _that hungry or do you have a little dragon in your pocket?" he asked, dark-brown hair hanging into his equally dark eyes. His shoulders were broad and his build rather heavy. He didn't look like someone you wanted to cross and in his voice there hadn't been the slightest hint of amusement. If possible, Snape got even smaller, put a protective hand across his pocket and shook his head hastily._

"Leave him alone, Rastaban", Lucius shot across the table. Judging from the look on his face that boy wasn't one of his favourite house mates.

"You don't need to know everything that's going on here. There are already too many others who consider that to be their job."

The two boys glared at each other for a while and the young Snape was so caught up in that spectacle that he didn't even notice the end of the ceremony and hardly heard the headmaster's welcoming words. Suddenly the tables were laden with food. Delicious aromas drifted through the Great Hall and coaxed the tiny cat out of her owner's shielding cloak. With one short and clumsy jump she was on the table and just busy burying her furry little head in a tureen with mashed potatoes when an amused shriek came from the Gryffindor table.

"Look, how cute! Snivelly has found himself a girlfriend over the holidays!" the unmistakable voice of Sirius Black cut through the noisy chatter and clinking of forks and plates.

"Oi, Snivelly! Was it hard to find an animal as filthy and greasy as you?"

Snape reached across the table gracefully and stopped his pet from playing havoc with the rest of his classmates' supper. He shot the other boy a nasty look that was worthy of Bellatrix Black and then cradled the kitten in his arms, striking the soft fur behind her much too big ears and whispered:

"Don't listen to him. He's an idiot. And you are the cutest and most beautiful cat on the planet."

She seemed content in hearing that or maybe she was just content because he had started feeding her little bits of chicken with one hand while glaring across the table towards the giggling trio of boys who were pointing into his direction and making kissing noises every few seconds. Anyway, she didn't try to conquer the table anymore and fell asleep again on Narcissa's lap who had taken over the purring lump so that Snape could finally eat something as well. Lucius had found a place at the far end of the table, near Crabbe and Goyle. No matter how sweetly Narcissa smiled at him, he wouldn't take a seat beside her for the rest of the Welcoming Feast.

Ron pushed Harry lightly in the back.

"Hey, next time you have to stand up against Malfoy, try holding out a cat in front of you."

He chuckled quietly. Hermione didn't say anything but glanced at Harry from the side with a disapprovingly raised eyebrow.

"What?" he asked her, a little annoyed. She just shook her head.

Somehow he had the feeling she would have liked to comment on his father's and godfather's behaviour and he was glad she had kept her mouth shut. It was enough to hear his own thoughts in his head without getting her self-righteous opinion as well. Probably they were thinking the same anyway.

Christmas had to be near, because inside the bubble snow was covering the Hogwarts grounds and Snape was busy cleaning away the needles of one of the many fir trees Hagrid had dragged into the Great Hall. James Potter, Remus Lupin and Sirius Black were there as well, leaning against one wall and chatting about their latest Potions assignment. Lupin seemed to be uncomfortable watching the smaller boy work all alone for he tried to grab a broom and join the dark-haired Slytherin. His two companions stopped him, though, each resting a hand on his arm and shaking their heads.

Snape finally raised his head and glared at them.

"You know, we all got this detention from McGonagall last term. How come I'm the only one who ever does the bloody tasks Filch gives us?"

James smirked.

"Because you are so darn good at it, Snivelly. Just like at everything else. Apart from flying, isn't? Oh, I still remember the last lesson dearly, you clinging to your bucking broom for dear life and Alice McErlaine falling off hers because she had to laugh so hard."

The boy with the dishevelled shock of dark hair let out a false high pitched laugh while grabbing the broom he was actually supposed to use for cleaning and shaking it violently, pretending to be dragged along behind it.

Snape threw his cleaning rug to the floor and stormed at the other boy, extreme dislike in his dark eyes. He had his wand out before the others could react and was aiming it steadily at the broomstick in James' hand.

"_Serpensor__ …"_

He never finished the curse for Filch was coming around the corner just then, howling loudly.

"That stupid, useless beast! It should be killed. Hagrid should be killed!" 

He started sobbing, pressing something bloody and mangled against his breast. Without glancing at the shocked boys once he stumbled past them and out into the yard. Four confused pairs of eyes followed him.

"Was that his cat?" whispered Lupin. "What's her name again …Fili…something."

"Filomena" Snape corrected him in an equally hushed voice. "Yes, I think so."

Sirius slowly looked from his friends to his favourite enemy, eyed Snape's still poised wand sceptically and tugged James at the shoulder. When the other boy looked at him he jerked his head towards the staircase leading up to Gryffindor tower and they both retreated quietly. Snape and Lupin were still staring after the crying caretaker and only when James yelled from the top of the stairs "Remus, are you coming?" the last of the three Gryffindors left, shrugging his shoulders at Snape before racing up the stairs to catch up with his friends.

Snape reached for the broom and the cleaning rug again, finished tidying up and then slowly followed the caretaker outside.

He found him near the Quidditch pitch, working frantically with a shovel on the frozen ground. There was still more hair on his head than in Harry's days and he looked in general less ragged. His face was flushed from crying and he was cursing in a way that made even Snape blush. Beside him on the floor lay the stiff body of a dead cat.

"What happened?" the boy asked quietly, kneeling down beside the cold little body and examining it closely. The flesh was torn and blood stained the grey tabby fur. It seemed that its neck had been broken and its throat slashed.

Filch shot round, startled to find a student there, the shovel still in his hand. He blinked a couple of times and then wiped the tears from his face.

"One of Hagrid's stupid dogs got her. Of course he says no, it must have been a fox or a wolf, but I know it was one of his creatures. He just has no control over them. No control!"

He hacked away angrily at the frozen earth until the hole was deep enough to make a decent grave for his pet. Gently he picked its remains up and placed it inside, stroking the crisp and bloody fur with a loving hand. 

Inside the memory there was suddenly another memory. Another hole, dug into dark earth. Another hand stroking something that looked like black hair. The hand was smaller, though, and the hair didn't seem to belong to an animal.

The boy inside the bubble shook his head strongly as if to chase away unwanted thoughts. Then he took up the shovel and started covering the hole again with the sobbing caretaker kneeling beside him. The boy didn't look at the older man once but worked steadily on until the spot was even again and indistinguishable from the rest of the field apart from the missing snow. When he turned around Filch was gone.

Slowly Snape walked back towards the castle, his head hanging down, his hands fiddling with the folds of his cloak. He was obviously pondering something very important.

When he was inside again he drew a long breath, sighed heavily and started running towards the Slytherin common room.

"Grindelwald" he yelled at the coat of arms that blocked the entrance and stormed through, nearly knocking Goyle over who was parading up and down in front of the exit, clutching  a familiar looking little parcel and mumbling something under his breath.

"Sorry", Snape panted, not looking back but heading straight towards the fire place where his cat was curled up on a fluffy green rug. He gently picked her up, hid her underneath his cloak and stormed out again, this time knocking Goyle straight into the wall.

"What's up with him?" Narcissa asked curiously, raising an eyebrow at Lucius. The blond teenager shrugged.

"Who cares? As long as he gets the dirty little fur ball out of here."

He wandered over to her, took a seat beside her on the couch and stretched out his long legs comfortably, his heels on the spot the cat had occupied moments earlier.

Snape had finally stopped running, because the rash movements had caused his furry burden to moan and whimper. Now he was steadily walking along a dark corridor, pressing the little animal to his breast and whispering to her.

"It's not that I don't like you, you know? But the common room is not the right place for you. You get pushed around all the time and everybody wants to stroke you and touch you. You don't like that, do you?"

Yellow, slightly bulgy eyes looked into his dark ones. She seemed genuinely interested.

"And he is a nice guy. He likes cats and he knows how to treat you with respect. With him you can go anywhere you like in this school and he will always have time for you. Not like me. I have to leave you alone everyday for classes and stuff. Believe me", he finished, seemingly more to persuade himself than to persuade his animal companion, "you'll like it here."

The couple had reached the door to what appeared to be Filch's office. The boy raised a hesitant hand and threw a doubtful look at the purring cat in his arms. There was a muffled sob from behind the door. He drew up his chin determinedly and knocked.

After a few seconds and some rumbling noises the door creaked open, the caretaker's red eyes peering through the gap.

"What do you want?" he snapped at the boy. "I have no more jobs for you and your idiotic friends this evening. So bugger off!"

He was about to close the door again when Snape unravelled the cat from his coat and held her up wordlessly. The door was opened again, this time all the way, and Filch looked at him with a mixture of hope and despair.

"What's this supposed to mean? Do you want to brag, because your pet is still alive while mine lies buried outside in the cold?"

Tears were welling up in the man's eyes again, but the dark-haired boy stayed calm, putting the cat to the floor. She sniffed the caretaker's leg with dignified curiosity and then lazily wandered into the office, her tail twitching slightly.

The young Snape looked up at Filch.

"No. I just thought you might be lonely and I know how that feels. I guess she is lonely, too" he pointed towards the animal that was just examining a pair of heavy black boots, her head almost completely buried in one of them, "with me being gone all day. Maybe you could take her."

There seemed to be the need for more words, more explanations. However, neither of them had any, so Filch just took a step aside and let the boy step into his office. He closed the door and they both watched the muddy-coloured furry animal occupy the chair closest to the fire, curling up comfortably and gazing at them with wise old cat-eyes.

Filch cleared his throat.

"Cup of tea?" he asked without taking his eyes of his new roommate. 

"Yes, that would be nice", Snape answered with a shy smile.

A/N:

Sorry it took so long this time, but I had to invest a little time in my relationship which suffers cruelly from my newfound creativity. Hopefully I'll have more time for myself again in the coming weeks, since I guess he know understands what writing means to me. And showing him your reviews kind of helped, too. *grin*

And don't worry, all of you, that cat was never in danger. I have three of those wonderful animals myself and killing the kittens earlier on nearly hurt as much as killing Susanna. I won't do it again anytime soon – presumably.

For those of you who wonder about what will happen after the "bubble bursts" so to speak – you'll have to be patient a little longer, because I plan on a few more memories involving Hogwarts staff and the Marauders, so it might take a little to get to the part "afterwards". But I will get there eventually and I already have some ideas worked out.

Thanks again for reading and reviewing. Please keep on doing both.

P.S. Lilith11: Yes, I do need English everyday. First of all my husband is Italian and English is our common language. Second I'm a language trainer for German Management Support. *grin*


	14. Chapter 14: Times are changing

**Chapter 14: Times are changing**

Harry registered a movement on his right, almost out of his visual range. Ginny was gesturing towards them, mouthing something soundlessly. Obviously she wanted to join in again, as curious to find out how the story continued as everyone else in the room.

As they carefully eyed the group of grown-ups downstairs and waited for the right moment to let Ron's sister slip under the cloak again with them, Harry felt a twinge of shame. 

They shouldn't be watching this. As a matter of fact, none of this should be happening. Snape should have stormed out in his usual arrogant way, maybe thrown a sneer back at everyone and ignored Dumbledore's request. Moody should have been too slow to get to him. Or someone should have interfered. And, definitely, Dumbledore shouldn't be doing what he was doing right now. It severely disturbed the picture Harry had come to create of the kind, gentle and caring headmaster.

He realized he had been lured into believing that all of this was acceptable, because none of the people he considered to be responsible adults had interfered. The Weasleys were clearly shocked, but hadn't moved to prevent what had happened. Moody was in full Auror-mode, hot on his prey's tale and oblivious to the damage that the hunt might cause. Tonks was apparently too interested in the role her family had in all of this to even comprehend that this was not Saturday-Night Entertainment. As for Lupin – somehow Harry hadn't really expected anything from the man who had never been brave enough to stand up and draw attention. 

Should Harry then … do what? Jump out from under the cloak and yell "Stop this!" dramatically? Try to distract Dumbledore and hope that Snape found a way of breaking the spell? Yeah, sure, like he could do that.

Maybe Dumbledore was right. Maybe all this was necessary and useful in the end. Somewhere inside Snape's head information about the Death Eaters might be buried, information that he hadn't shared with the Order yet, information that he maybe wasn't even aware he had.

Or maybe all of this was just an excuse for cruel curiosity which in this case didn't kill the cat but might break a man's spirit.

Taking a concerned look at the two wizards facing each other with closed eyes he noticed that Snape seemed a little less tense. He was leaning against the wall, still flanked by Moody and Bill Weasley, his breathing deep and even. The frown between his eyes was beginning to ease out a little, even though his hands were still clenched into fists. The headmaster, on the other hand, looked stressed, sweat pouring down his forehead and little beads dripped from the tip of his nose from time to time. The frown that slowly disappeared from Snape's face appeared to have found a new home on the headmaster's features.

Harry decided to keep an eye on the present-day Snape as well as the past one and, if necessary, act on instinct. After all, that was what he was best at.

The 12-year-old Snape was slowly making his way up from the dungeons towards the entrance hall, his nose buried in a book, his feet finding their way effortlessly, when a girl bumped into him.

"Severus", she panted, grabbing him by the arm and pulling him along behind her. "I was looking for your friend … the blond guy … Malfoy, but I couldn't find him, so you are the next best thing."

He raised an eyebrow before answering in a voice thick with sarcasm:

"I feel deeply honoured, Alice. If you would please be so kind now and let go of my arm, I'm capable of walking on my own, you know."

She chose to ignore his words – or maybe she really didn't hear him, which would have been no surprise with her breathing coming so fast and ragged. She sounded a little bit like the Hogwarts Express leaving the station and her flushed face didn't help to lessen that impression. 

"Narcissa is sitting by the lake crying her eyes out", she went on, fighting for breath with every step now that she didn't only have to move her ample frame but also had to drag her confused classmate along.

"We don't know what's wrong and she won't tell anyone."

Snape finally decided to cooperate and started jogging through the entrance hall towards the door, overtaking her easily.

"Thanks, I'll try to talk to her. Just stay here, Alice. You probably won't be able to help anyway."

He fell into a full run while mumbling under his breath:

"And you'd probably have a heart attack, if you had to run all the way there."

He found Narcissa sitting on a tree trunk by the lake. She was hugging her knees, her face buried in her arms, and from the way her whole body trembled it was obvious that she was crying fiercely. The boy slowed down and approached her carefully.

"Narcissa?" he asked softly, apparently not daring to go near her without having her consent. She looked up at him and her beautiful face was flushed with tears, her eyes red and puffy, and her shiny blond hair clung to her in tangled tresses. She opened her mouth as if to say something, but another wave of tears flooded her before the words had a chance to come out. With a heart-wrenching sob she hid her face again.

After a moment's hesitation Snape sat down beside her and started to stroke her back clumsily. The look on his young face was one of deep concern.

After a few more minutes of crying on her part and sympathetic stroking on his she suddenly threw her head back, pressed the palms of her hands under her eyes and started to blink away the tears.

"Thank you, Severus. Really, thank you."

He removed his hand from her back, looking at her from the side with a worried frown while she did her best to restore her usual stunning appearance. 

"Do you want to tell me what has happened or do you want me to go and find Lucius?" the boy asked after watching her running her fingers through her hair and wiping at her face frantically for another minute. 

"Lucius knows", she answered. Her hands finally stopped moving as she rested them in her lap. Her gaze wondered out onto the lake as she started speaking in a surprisingly calm voice.

"Andromeda has fallen in love with a Muggle and is going to marry him. She told father and mother about it in the hope they would accept it."

Narcissa let out a very unattractive snort.

"Sure, like anyone in our family would ever be able to accept something like that. A Black having a friendly relationship with a Muggle, let alone marry one! Naturally father disowned her. He would probably have killed her, but she had the mind to apparate from the grounds immediately. Bellatrix swore she would hex her into a thousand little pieces should she ever get the chance."

The look of worry on the younger boy's face had chanced into one of utter confusion.

"What is so bad about her marrying a Muggle?"

She looked at him in disbelieve. 

"You still don't understand it, do you? All this time you spent with Lucius and us, all the stories we told you, all the things we taught you, and you still have no idea what is going on."

She grabbed him by the arms, shaking him violently and shouted into his face:

"Wizards and Muggles don't mix! We can play with them and laugh at them and have fun with them, but they are not our equals, they are way below us. Andromeda with that Muggle-boy is like … like … like you having a relationship with your cat. She will spoil the line of pure blood. She will endanger our heritage!"

She pushed him back, away from her and he fell off the trunk, hitting his head painfully against the ground. When he had managed to get to his feet again she was facing the lake. Her face was set and no traces of the tears she had cried could be seen.

"Don't ever say something like that to Lucius, he will not take it as well as I did."

He eyed her suspiciously, rubbing the back of his head and his arms where she had grabbed him in turn. When she turned around to face him again she managed a weak smile.

"If you really want to help, Severus, then study with me. The final exams are hard enough as it is without me worrying about a lost sister. Will you do that for me?"

She held out one of her long-fingered hands to him and he took it without any hesitation.

"Of course I will."

Mrs. Weasley had moved over to stand behind Tonks who was literally shaking with anger. The older woman rested her hands on the younger one's shoulders and started making comforting little noises like she would have done to a small child.

"Shh, shh. It's all right, dear. Don't get all worked up. This is all over now. Your parents are happy and safe together. They have survived through all of this."

Only that not everything was over, Harry thought bitterly. Bellatrix Lestrange, formerly Bellatrix Black was still out there. Only last spring she had proven that she was entirely capable of killing a relative. No mercy for the cousin. Why should she have mercy for a sister? Or an unwanted niece?

Harry remembered the face of the young Bellatrix out of Snape's memory, tears of laughter rolling down her face, and he remembered the Bellatrix he knew, remembered her cruel and shrill voice, remembered how she had killed the only person he had ever really felt close to – apart from Hermione and Ron. No, nothing was over. Everything was starting all over again. He only hoped that next time he would be better prepared.

Redirecting his gaze towards the bubble Harry wasn't sure if he had missed something, having been lost in his own unpleasant memories, or if they had just jumped into new and unknown territory, for the scenery definitely didn't look anything like Hogwarts or Malfoy Manor.

The dusky room had a high ceiling but no windows. Candles lined the walls, rested on small tables and sometimes just hovered in the air, magically supported. They shone their lights on the faces of at least five dozen witches and wizards, all in elegant robes, drinking from exquisite goblets. Most of them seemed to be in their early forties, some of them maybe already in their fifties. Lord and Lady Malfoy were chatting animatedly with a handsome young man whose age was hard to tell. He had an enticing smile and a lock of his soft brown hair kept falling into his eyes.

In a corner close to the entrance door a group of teenagers held a respectful distance from the adults. Crabbe and Goyle were there, Avery, McNair, Bellatrix Black and the boy called Rastaban and someone who looked like young Bartemious Crouch junior. Snape was, as usual, by the side of Lucius Malfoy who was, also as usual, accompanied by Narcissa. The blond girl was careful not to look in the direction of her sister who threw menacing glances her way.

Snape was by far the youngest in the room and seemed to be a newcomer in this well worked group. Ever so often he would tug at Lucius' sleeve, point to someone and require that person's name. The older boy answered all the questions patiently, but he also seemed to be nervously waiting for something. When the young man who had been talking to his parents moved to the far end of the room and positioned himself behind a small table the blond teenager grabbed his younger friend by the collar and shoved him forward a little, his hands resting on the boy's shoulders. There was an expectant smile on his face and an odd spark in his stunning blue eyes.

The young man raised his goblet to the assembled crowd.

"Welcome."

His voice was surprisingly deep, soft and full. It seemed to fill the room completely, stretching out into the farthest corner. Snape straightened up and tried to stand on tiptoe to get a better look at the face that belonged to that startling voice.

"It fills me with great joy to see that our number has once again increased. The truth shines its light brightly and it gets harder to close ones eyes upon it by the minute."

The silence that followed this cryptic statement was almost deafening and the eager tension thick enough to slice with a knife.

Harry knew this voice. Not the sound, not the deep resonance that echoed off the room's walls. He remembered the peculiar melody, the way one word seemed to glide effortlessly into the next one. It made each sentence sound logical and coherent, gave him a deep inner meaning that might not always be there.

Voldemort.

He looked more like Tom Riddle, aged only slightly, but obviously the wizard standing in front of all these people had already passed that state, had already left behind his father's name, for he already spoke with the authority and conviction that had nearly numbed Harry on that graveyard where he had held the dead Cedric Diggory. Where he had seen Voldemort rise again with a face so unlike the one of the handsome young man in that memory. Not even the eyes were the same. Would these people have followed him had he already carried his current features, Harry wondered. Would they have found the courage to stare so attentively into the red gleaming eyes that haunted Harry's dreams?

He finally noticed that Hermione was staring at him intently as if waiting for some sort of reaction. Obviously she had drawn the right conclusions and even if she couldn't recognise the orator by his look or his voice, she knew who he was. Harry nodded gravely to confirm her stare which he presumed to be questioning. Then, suddenly, it hit him. His scar didn't hurt. He was looking at Voldemort and his scar didn't hurt. He hadn't thought about it, but now he felt a surge of relief pass through him. It would have been more than unpleasant to feel the searing pain every time Voldemort appeared in Snape's memory – which would be rather often from now on, he guessed. He pressed Hermione's hand and gave her a half-hearted smile.

"To my deepest regret I have heard about the troubles that the Ministry has forced upon some of our group. Noble wizards, coming from a long line of equally noble wizards, who were doing nothing else but protecting their grounds against Muggle-intrusion."

He nodded towards the Malfoys who bowed their heads slightly.

"How can it not be just to protect house and family?" he continued, his hands pressed flat on the table in front of him, his fiery eyes flying from one face to the next.

"How can it be errant to protect the border that nature itself erected? None of us wishes a Muggle ill. None of us denies them the right to live. We respect their rights and their living space. We do not intrude upon their houses, their grounds. In fact, we have been retreating for years, granting their growing population more and more room. On what grounds, I ask you!"

He wasn't shouting, however his voice had reached a level of intensity that was almost painful. Snape tried to cover his ears, but Lucius grabbed his arms and pressed them to his sides.

"It's no use shielding your ears from the truth", he whispered into the younger boy's ear, his eyes still on the man in front, an expression of rapture on his face. He wasn't the only one. All over the room people were listening intently, their eyes wide open, some nodding in accordance. The man who was to become the Dark Wizard called Voldemort drew a deep breath.

"Respect should earn respect. Protection should earn thankfulness. The wizarding community has played the part of a guardian for centuries now. We are the stronger ones, so it is our duty to look after the weaker – the Muggles."

He spat the last word out in disgust.

"That's what they keep telling us. That's what the Ministry replies every time someone dares to ask for some sort of compensation. That's what great and wise Albus Dumbledore answers to everyone who inquires after the 'Why'. But that is not an answer. It's an excuse."

He took a well-placed pause, taking his time in glancing around the room.

"Society today functions solely on one principal: that the stronger protect the weaker. It's an outdated principal, suitable for insuring survival when our numbers were still small. Back then we needed them, for we were not enough. We needed to mix our blood with theirs, hoping that our strength would survive that infestation. We are still paying the price today, still have magically crippled children born to powerful wizarding families."

Several of the adults hung their heads, either in shame or in pain.

"We have long ago reached the point where we don't need them anymore. We are spread all over the world, leading the world's destiny without ever receiving gratitude or even acknowledgement. It's time to recognise the future and to welcome it with open arms. It's time change a system that will always leave us in the position of a servant to those who are beneath us. The world is changing and we will help her through her pains of growing."

His voice had dropped down to a whisper. Instead of finishing with a loud exclamation or one of the famous rhetorical questions he had decided on phasing his speech out. He was successful nevertheless.

All around people started applauding, pressing towards the table to shake his hand and utter their agreement. Lucius clapped his hands together frantically, elbowing Crabbe and Goyle to do the same. Bellatrix was standing close to the future Voldemort, seemingly bathing in his presence, Avery and McNair right beside her.

Snape turned to look at Narcissa who was applauding politely and suppressed a yawn at the same time. He grinned at her.

On the way out Lucius wrapped a long arm around his younger friend's thin frame and pulled him to his side affectionately. His face was flushed with excitement still and his eyes gleamed in the twilight of coming dusk.

"He is inspiring, isn't he?"

The young boy by his side shrugged his shoulders.

"To be honest, I didn't understand everything he talked about."

Lucius gave him another bone-crunching squeeze and pulled Narcissa close to his other side.

"Don't worry, Eagle nose, we'll explain everything to you once we are home. If we are lucky he might even come around to dinner sometime during the rest of the holidays. He fancies my parents, you know."

Narcissa craned her neck to look at the dark-haired boy across Lucius' shoulder. She looked pointedly at her classmate and rolled her eyes. Snape laughed.

AN:  Sorry again for the long delay. I write in the little pockets of time that the currently very stressful combination of job and husband leave me and when there is a moment of peace I try to put together all the little notes that are scattered around my various bags and folders.

As you might have noticed I tried to answer some of your questions as to why nobody interferes. If you have ever seen the large group of spectators near the site of an accident you will know that unfortunately curiosity is one of the strongest human drives – and sometimes it even outruns common sense. To those of you who find Dumbledore unbelieving: I'm sorry about that, but right now it can't be helped. I do have an explanation for why he does what he does, but I cannot possibly give it right now, because that would kind of ruin the plot scheme that I made for myself. If it bothers you so much you will just have to stop reading – which you have probably done by now anyway, so this is useless rambling. *confused grin*

I'll be in London over the weekend and had to promise my husband not to take a laptop with me. He didn't say anything about pen and paper, though. *grin*

So please, forgive me for taking so long to update and keep on reading and reviewing. Your comments are very helpful and inspiring. Special thanks here to Mara, Cloudshape, Snape coolgirl and the ever helpful Barbara Kennedy and Lilith11.


	15. Chapter 15: Never quite the way you thin...

**Chapter 15: Never Quite the way you think**

Hermione had a very strange look on her face, one that Harry had seen only on very rare occasions – when she lost against Ron at Wizard's Chess; when she couldn't get her broom to react according to her wishes; when it took her more than one read-through to understand a spell or a recipe or any sort of theory. She seemed to be appalled by what she had heard just then, yet at the same time she was obviously struggling to understand the concept underlying that speech, the belief system that had been its motivation.

Harry was just plain shocked at the mere idea of Muggles being naturally inferior to wizards. Granted, they lacked magical talent and some of them, unfortunately most of the ones he knew personally, were complete and utter bastards. On the other hand, they had managed pretty well without magic so far, making up for it with understanding natural sciences and technology in a way that no wizard could ever hope for. They were living rather comfortably – at least the ones who had the necessary financial background. And, coming to think of it, he knew at least as many wizards as Muggles who fell into the complete and utter bastard category.  

Students were wandering lazily out of the Great Hall and into the bright sunshine outside, thus indicating that is was weekend at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. On any ordinary school day lunch would have been followed by a frantic stampede of hundreds of students towards their various classrooms and upcoming lessons.

On the left side of the room, at the far end of the Slytherin table, sat a dark-haired boy watching after the others. A group of elder students had just reached the huge door and a honey-haired girl walking close to the leader turned around to wave at the lonely little figure.

"Severus, come on! I promise the sun will not melt you or turn you into a pile of dust." 

She gave him a big flashy smile which he returned half-heartedly while shaking his head. He fixed his eyes back on the piece of parchment in front of him and as the girl gave him one last contemplative look, he took up his quill again and continued his letter.

"_I'm really busy helping Lucius and the others to prepare for their N.E.W.T.s and there is also a lot of homework to do for my own classes. Professor McGonagall demands a six-inch essay after almost every lesson and Professor Flitwick says I should work on making my wand-movements more elegant._"

He leaned his head against his left hand and started twirling the quill around in his right. As he let his gaze wonder through the hall he noticed that only a few other students had decided to stay inside as well. Four boys at the Gryffindor table attracted his special attention.

Lupin was resting his head on his folded arms, his nose mere inches from the tabletop, while the boy sitting beside him, James Potter, watched him intently with a worried frown on his face. On Lupin's other side stood Sirius Black, poking him into the shoulder in five-second-intervals and talking to him seemingly non-stop. There was another boy standing there, half hidden behind Lupin and Black. He was a little chubby and decidedly smaller than the other three, probably the same size as Snape. He had ashen hair and watery pale eyes that kept flitting from Black to Potter like he was watching a very exciting Tennis match. From time to time he giggled and nodded his head frantically.

Peter Pettigrew, Harry thought as he felt his stomach clench and a sour taste rise in his throat. The traitor who was responsible for his parents' death. The little weasel that had betrayed his best friends to gain the protection and the grace of Voldemort and who was still desperately trying to always be by the side of the biggest bully in the playground. Harry wasn't sure if it was because of all the things he already knew about him, but the sight of that overweight and characterless boy made him nauseous.

At the table Lupin had taken the same posture as his past self, arms folded tightly across each other and resting on the table. Only that his face was buried in the cloth of his cloak, hiding his expression from the small world inside Grimmauld Place. Tonks was stroking his back. He neither moved nor spoke.

The young Snape had started to pack up his things, rolling up his parchment carefully and stowing it away inside his robes. He still eyed the Gryffindors, careful though not to draw their attention himself. James grabbed Sirius by the arm and pulled him away from the pale Lupin, who was still staring at the half-empty plate in front of him. There were dark shadows under his eyes. His fingernails were dirty and there were scratches on the back of his hands.

Snape waited until Potter and Black had both disappeared, the inevitable Pettigrew scampering along behind them, before he made his way past the Gryffindor table and its last lonely inhabitant. He had just passed the other boy, careful not to establish eye contact, when he suddenly stopped, inclined his head slightly to the side and asked:

"Are you all right?"

Lupin threw him a suspicious look before snapping:

"Why would you care?"

Snape opened his mouth, then closed it again and glared at the other one. Lupin finally pushed his plate back, swung his legs over the bench and stormed out of the Great Hall.

"Sometimes people need to be left alone."

The boy swirled around to find Albus Dumbledore standing behind him, his blue eyes twinkling, a smile on his wrinkled face.

"I just thought … he looks like …he might need some help", Snape stuttered nervously while trying to avoid the headmaster's gaze.

"He has all the help that he needs", Dumbledore told him and started to gently push him towards the doors, out into the sunlight. "You don't need to worry, Mr. Snape. You know, Gryffindors are always there for each other."

"So are the Slytherins", answered the boy defiantly and with a tad of hurt pride in his voice. This time he dared to look the older wizard straight in the eye, who frowned a little before recapturing his usual gentle smile.

"Yes, I've heard about that." He nodded ever so slightly. "Why don't you go and find your fellow Slytherins then, child. A little sun would be good for you, you are much too pale. I wouldn't want your parents to think we don't take proper care of you here at Hogwarts."

With that he left the boy standing in the doorframe and strode off gracefully towards his office. Snape stared after him with a look of confusion and slight anger on his face.

"I can decide for myself what to do, thank you very much", he muttered to himself as he turned around and headed towards the owlery.

During supper Snape alternated his attention between the headmaster at the teachers' table and Remus Lupin among his Gryffindor housemates, consequently neglecting his jacket potato and shepherd's pie to an extend that made Phillip Crabbe curious.

"Are you waiting for something specific to be happening?" he asked the younger Slytherin in a hushed voice. "Did you play some sort of prank and now you're waiting for the result?"

He had an eager expression on his face that didn't help to improve his looks. Snape hastily withdrew his gaze from the Gryffindor table, obviously shocked that his behaviour had attracted any sort of attention.

"No, I was just … thinking of something. It's nothing, really", he answered while trying to show some halfway genuine interest in his food.

Crabbe shrugged and returned to a discussion he had been having with Avery about their last Quidditch match against Hufflepuff. Lucius Malfoy didn't look at his younger friend as he informed him quietly:

"It's obviously not nothing. You have been staring over to the Gryffindors all evening. Did they tease you again? Hex you?"

He turned to face Snape.

"You know you just have to tell me and I'll make them pay."

The younger boy smiled at him gratefully. Then he put the fork down and shoved the plate away from him before leaning over to Lucius conspiratorially.

"No, it's got nothing to do with me. Do you see that boy over there? The one beside Potter?"

Lucius glanced up quickly and then nodded.

 "I think there's something strange going on with him. Today after lunch the others were bugging him about something, especially Black, and he looks really ill. He is all pale and tired and there are scratches on his hands."

Lucius gave him a cold look.

"And why exactly does that interest you?"

"Because Dumbledore told me to keep out of it."

Both Slytherins stared at each other quietly for a while before a smile crept across Lucius' attractive face.

"You really might have something there, eagle nose. Dumbledore would do anything to protect his beloved Gryffindors. Who knows what he is trying to cover up?"

Together with the rest of their housemates they got up and started filing out of the Great Hall. Quickly, before Narcissa could make her way through the crowd towards them, Lucius whispered:

"Look, with the N.E.W.T.s coming up and all I have no time to help you, but I would love to know what is going on. If you find out anything, let me know, ok?"

Snape nodded. That moment Narcissa had caught up with them, slinging her arm around Lucius' waist and ruffling the younger boy's hair affectionately with her free hand.

"Well, boys, ready for another revision-session? I'm really starting to feel like I can do this."

"Severus will not be able to join us this time, 'Cissa", Lucius said as he threw a smug smile in Snape's direction. "He has got some research to do."

Harry relaxed slightly. Yes, this was better. This was the Snape he knew, always sticking his overtly large nose into things that were none of his business. And for what reason? Not out of real interest or pity. Just because Albus Dumbledore had told him not to, just to make trouble, just to find something he could use against Gryffindor.

But then – why had he stopped and asked Lupin if everything was all right with him in the first place?

The ranks around the Quidditch pitch were empty except for a few scattered spectators here and there. Single players from all four teams were racing across the afternoon sky, some testing their broomstick's manoeuvring capability, others going for speed. There was astonishingly little competition in the air. Everybody seemed to be enjoying himself.

Snape was slowly making his way from one of the top rows to one further down where Lupin was sitting all by himself, watching James Potter and Sirius Black race each other at neck breaking speed. The young Slytherin took a deep breath, as if bracing himself, and then climbed onto the bench beside his Gryffindor classmate. He carefully avoided looking at the other one directly but kept his attention seemingly on the slightly chaotic activities a couple of feet above their heads.

"Since when do you care about Quidditch?" Lupin snapped at him. He started to inch away slowly from the other boy, wincing slightly with the movement.

"You seem to know awfully well what I care about", the smaller boy answered softly and looked at the other one with the hint of a smile.

"But if you must know – I didn't come here to watch those arrogant pricks showing off. I was looking for you, because I wanted to give you this."

He held out a small jar that contained a slightly glowing blue liquid. Lupin didn't show any intention of taking it.

"What's that for?"

Snape still held out the jar, his hand steady, while he kept his eyes fixed on the other one.

"It's a potion that will make your scratches disappear a lot faster than the stuff that they give you in the hospital wing. My father developed the recipe. It works, believe me."

He dared his smile to become a little broader and set the jar down on the bench between himself and the Gryffindor.

"How do I know it's not going to turn me into a toad or something?"

Lupin eyed the jar suspiciously and started nibbling at one of the crusts on his hand.

"We have played so many pranks on you in the last two years, how can I be sure that this is not some sort of revenge?"

Snape shrugged.

"You can't, really. But then, think about it, would I give it to you openly, if it was some sort of practical joke? That's not Slytherin style and you know it. Besides", he added and glanced up at Black and Potter still circling above his head, "you were never the one to hex me, to make me trip, or drop things. You never raised your hand."

There was an indefinable undertone to his voice, not quite a threat, but something close to a dare. Lupin didn't take the challenge. He merely took the jar, placed it carefully inside his well-worn robes and continued to watch his flying friends.

"Maybe I'm not the only one that they play jokes on, those two."

Snape had said this very quietly. It hadn't even been a question. Lupin was on his feet in a split second and grabbed the considerably smaller boy by the collar of his robes. He pulled the pale face with the much too prominent nose close to his equally pale face and said in a deadly whisper:

"They are my friends and they would go through the fire for me. Maybe you are not familiar with the concept of friendship. All you ever do is lick up to Lucius Malfoy and his gang. What will you do when they leave after this year? Is that why you have been trying to be friendly with me lately? Because they are leaving and all the other Slytherins will stop noticing you once they are gone? You can forget that, because I would never want to be friends with someone like you."

Snape's lip had started to twist in a most unattractive fashion and he was fighting back tears – maybe of hurt, possibly of anger. He pushed the taller boy hard against the chest and made him stumble over the bench. Lupin fell backwards and hit his head on the bench behind him. The jar in his pocket shattered and the liquid soaked the side of his cloak. As Snape was just climbing down the ladder towards the ground, tears still making his vision blurry, something suddenly grabbed him from behind. He felt himself lifted into the air and heard the hateful voice of Sirius Black.

"I don't know what you did to him, but I'm sure it was intended to hurt. Well, so is this."

The grip on his back was suddenly released and he tumbled towards the meadow below. He obviously hadn't been that high up, for the painful sound of flesh hitting solid ground came rather soon. He grimaced and pulled his right arm towards him. Judging from the unhealthy angle in which the hand now connected with the wrist that hand was broken. On the rank above Black had just landed beside his two friends. James was sitting beside Remus, listening as the other one obviously told his story. The hurt Slytherin on the ground didn't wait to see the end of it but started limping towards the castle as fast as possible.

Tonks had stopped stroking Lupin's back and stared at him with a look of bewilderment. He still didn't move and wouldn't look up, no matter how many people would start whispering to him, telling him that it was not that bad, that it had been only childish behaviour.

Only that it was more than that, at least to Harry. For once in his life Lupin had stood up and Harry was proud to see that it had been for his friends. But why with this spiteful vigour? Why with so much aggression? Maybe he had been close to his transformation, Harry wondered, desperate to find some sort of explanation. In the memories before he hadn't had the impression that Lupin had shared his father's and godfather's loathing for Snape. He had been rather indifferent, careful to keep out of things. This had been totally unexpected.

Against the wall, between the very quiet Bill Weasley and Mad Eye Moody, Snape straightened himself slightly, his eyes still closed.

A dark haired boy was slowly walking across the entrance hall, past the door to the Great Hall and towards the staircase leading to the hospital wing. There was a slightly dirty, formerly white cast around his right arm, but he wasn't limping anymore. Behind him the door to the Great Hall opened and Narcissa Black came out, dragging a moaning Lucius Malfoy after her.

"Narcissa, please, give me one evening of break. If I have to go over the goblin battles with you one more time I will probably have to rip out my eyes. Or to kill you", he added after a thoughtful pause. Snape, who had halted on the first landing, smiled.

"Hey, there is our Mastermind! Severus, you surely wouldn't mind listening to Narcissa rambling on about names and dates and places and correcting her from time to time when she got it wrong?"

The blond teenager grinned hopefully and elegantly avoided a not very well aimed blow against his shoulder. Snape chuckled to himself before nodding at both of them.

"Sure. I just have to get rid of this stupid cast and then I'll be with you in about half an hour."

"Thanks, eagle nose, you are really saving my life", Lucius answered while grabbing both of Narcissa's arms to keep her from pinching him. "By the way, revising with her for Professor Binns is much less dangerous than riding that broomstick of yours. You might fall asleep and off the chair, but you wouldn't break your hand like that. Especially not in three different places."

The boy gave a forced smile, turned around and continued his way up towards the hospital wing. When he got in Madame Pomfrey was in rather a hurry, taking care of a boy in a bed at the farthest end of the room. There was no way to tell who he was.

"Mr. Snape!" Madame Pomfrey exclaimed when she saw him. "I nearly forgot about you. Come here, quickly."

She grabbed him round his waist and lifted his scrawny body onto the nearest bed, ignoring his scornful look. She started collecting several jars onto the bedside table. A couple of swift wand-movements later the cast was gone, revealing rather crimpled skin and a nasty dark bruise. The nurse applied two different lotions onto the damaged area, forced a large quantity of a glimmering blue potion down the boy's throat and then lightly clapped him on the back.

"There you go, young man. Almost as good as new. I should really thank your father for that recipe."

She noticed his shocked expression as soon as the words had left her mouth and pulled him into a short but firm embrace, which caused the frown on his face to deepen.

"Don't worry, I won't write to him. And I don't really want to know why he felt the need to develop that potion in the first place, do I?"

He steadily avoided her gaze and did his best to slowly inch out of her reach, lest she might grab him another time. She smiled at him affectionately, but her eyes were worried.

"I'm sorry that I don't have more time for you today, Severus. I'm in a real hurry. But maybe you'd like to come by for tea and biscuits on Saturday? We haven't chatted in a long time and you have to update me on your potions' research assignment."

With that she strode off to the other boy in the other bed. Snape hurried out of the hospital wing as fast as his skinny legs would carry him.

As he crossed the entrance hall and the door into the Great Hall again Sirius Black suddenly stepped out of the shadows and into his way. The Slytherin boy started reaching for his wand, but he was right handed and his reflexes had been slowed down by the injury-induced lack of practice. Black reached not for his wand, but for the other boy's hand, grabbing it hard around the still slightly swollen wrist. Snape drew a sharp breath as obviously new pain shot through the just healed extremity; he stopped struggling and looked up at Black.

"So, I see the cast is gone. Poor Snivelly, now you have no excuse anymore for not taking a shower."

Snape glared at the taller boy, not daring to give any smug reply as long as his hand was still at the other one's mercy.

"You know, I thought, since you were so keen on finding out where Remus gets his scratches from, maybe you would like to join us tonight? We all meet up, me, James and Peter, and have a little fun with our friend Remus. Care to join in? Of course you would have to be brave enough to walk up to the Whomping Willow, prod the knot on the tree-trunk with a long stick and follow the path that you will see then. So, I guess I _won't be seeing you later this evening."_

He casually let go of Snape's wrist and wandered off without another look at the other boy. Snape was breathing heavily, holding his hand, as he made his way down towards the dungeons.


	16. Chapter 16: Lies, Secrets and Agreements

**Chapter 16: Lies, secrets and agreements**

"Stop biting your lip", Ron hissed at his younger sister. Ginny's complexion didn't show any signs of having been sick anymore. Her cheeks were red with excitement and her eyes glittered.

"We know what's going to happen. Snape will follow them, try to get to the Shrieking Shack to find out about Lupin and Harry's dad will save him at the last second. No need to worry and no need to bite your lip bloody."

Hermione threw a doubtful look back at the two Weasleys. She didn't seem to agree with Ron's no-need-to-worry-concept and Harry could see why. He wasn't too keen on seeing Remus Lupin turn into a werewolf again, either. One time, no actually two, if you counted their adventure with the time turner, had been more than enough. The recollection still gave him ideas for some very impressive nightmares today. On the other hand, he would get to see his father doing the one thing that had supposedly earned him Snape's everlasting hatred. Or wouldn't he?

Snape had rested his head lightly against the wall. The muscles in his face were twitching slightly and his hands were clenched into tight fists. Dumbledore seemed to be equally tense and his breathing came somewhat laboured.

The pictures in the bubble swished by at top speed, allowing the spectators, the unwanted as well as the undetected, only short glimpses. The young Snape hurrying through the garden towards the Whomping Willow. A mad rattle of branches. The gap between the roots, through which a terrible howling noise could be heard. It sounded like a human in severe pain. James Potter grabbing Snape by the shoulder and yelling at him, trying to pull him back up through the gap. Sirius Black sprinting along the meadow. A mad row between the two Gryffindors.

Dumbledore's office came into focus. Three boys were standing in front of a desk scattered with papers, empty chocolate frog boxes and picture frames. James was still scowling at Sirius who kept hissing insults at Snape. The Slytherin was bleeding from a cut above his left eyebrow and seemed to be even paler than usual. 

Albus Dumbledore stopped talking to Minerva McGonagall, the latter leaving the room with a last angry look at the two students out of her house, and slowly took a seat behind his chaotic desk. He didn't invite the three boys to sit.

"This incident is far from pleasant", he started and let his gaze linger over the three students in front of him. It rested the longest on Sirius Black.

"I was under the impression that we had established the highest security possible to protect Mr. Lupin – and your fellow students. Tell me, child" he turned his twinkling blue eyes towards Snape who met his gaze with as much calm as he could muster, "how did you find out how to get past the Whomping Willow?"

Snape's eyes flicked over to Black. The Gryffindor avoided his gaze, a triumphant smile around his lips. James Potter looked at the smaller boy imploringly. Snape seemed to think for a moment, then he straightened up an answered:

"Black told me, sir."

Dumbledore nodded gravely, turned his attention towards the accused Gryffindor and asked:

"Is that true, Mr. Black?"

Sirius gave a contemptuous snort.

"Of course not, sir. We promised that we wouldn't talk about it to a soul. Besides, I wouldn't even give the time of day to that slimy Slytherin."

Harry was horrified by the ease with which his godfather told a lie directly to Dumbledore's face and also by the disdain he dared to show towards another student. For a moment Sirius had reminded him of Draco Malfoy, who also didn't have any scruples showing his contempt for Harry, no matter who was around, teacher or student.

The frown between Dumbledore's brows deepened.

"I do not hold with such an attitude, Mr. Black. Loyalty to one's house is nothing bad, contempt for the other houses is. I will make sure your head of house will have a lengthy talk about that with you."

He turned his attention towards James Potter, who had been uncharacteristically quiet so far.

"Mr. Potter, can you enlighten us on the matter?"

James looked down towards the tip of his shoes.

"I saw Severus walking towards the tree and looking for a long branch. That gave me the idea that he knew how to get past the Willow's defences. I ran down as fast as I could, but he was already through the gap. All I could do was pull him up again by force."

He looked at the glowering Snape.

"I didn't mean to bash your head against that branch. Sorry."

Snape didn't answer but wiped some blood from his split brow.

"And how does Mr. Black fit into all this?" Dumbledore pressed on.

James didn't have a chance to say anything for Sirius declared:

"I saw the two of them and naturally assumed that Sniv… Severus had attacked James. I just wanted to help my friend."

Dumbledore looked slowly from one boy to the next. Sirius was still smiling his enigmatic smile. James didn't dare to meet the headmaster's gaze. Snape looked at the old wizard imploringly, his fingers nestling with the seam of his cloak. He was obviously dying to say something, but didn't dare to without the headmaster asking him. Finally Dumbledore nodded.

"Very well. Mr. Black, Mr. Potter, please present yourself to Professor McGonagall right away; she is already waiting for you in her office. As for Mr. Snape …"

"You can't just let him go like this", Sirius piped up. "He knows about Remus. He will tell the whole school! You have to erase his memory or something. You have to …"

"Thank you, Mr. Black, I know very well what to do with your classmate. I believe we can trust him to keep that secret as well as anyone of us."

He waved an impatient hand towards the door. When the two Gryffindors had left the office the headmaster got up, drew a chair out of thin air, a soft green armchair with a slightly worn seat, and motioned for Snape to sit. As the child sat down nervously the old wizard touched the split brow lightly with the tip of his wand and murmured something under his breath. Snape shrunk back in sudden fear, but all that happened was that the bleeding stopped and a thin layer of new skin covered the damaged area. Dumbledore pulled his chair out from behind the desk and sat down opposite of Snape. He leaned back comfortably and tilted his head to the left slightly.

"So, Sirius Black told you how to get past the Whomping Willow."

"Yes, sir", Snape answered, even though it had not been a question. "He gave me the impression that he and Potter were … doing something to Lupin. He … he dared me to follow them."

Judging from the look on the boy's face the explanation sounded stupid to him suddenly, like many things that made more sense when thought than when uttered out loud. Dumbledore, however, just looked at him encouragingly, his fingertips pressed against each other. Snape took a deep breath.

"You know that I had noticed Lupin's injuries and I assumed … well, I thought that Potter and Black were hurting him. Like …" 

He didn't dare to finish the sentence. Dumbledore sighed heavily.

"I know that there is a certain animosity between you and those particular two Gryffindor classmates of yours. It's not that hard to see and many teachers have reported on it. However, since you told me quite clearly in your first year that you preferred to fight your battles alone, I advised the staff to interfere only if they saw the situation get out of hand. Maybe they, and me as well, have committed some misjudgements over the past few months."

The boy relaxed visibly.

"Then you believe me? That Black told me how to get past that tree?"

"Of course I believe you, child. Why would you lie to me? I would even have insisted on Mr. Black apologizing to you, but I gathered that you wouldn't have cared for it anyway, since there was little chance that it would have been genuine. It also might have created additional problems for you in the consequence."

The boy didn't answer.

"Unfortunately you have been pushed to stumble over a secret that you were not supposed to share. Next time, maybe, you should trust my judgement and just take my word if I tell you, that there is no need to worry. You do, of course, understand that what you have learned about Remus Lupin's condition tonight has to be kept a secret, don't you? No one must know."

He looked at the boy intensely and it seemed that his blue eyes radiated something. Snape frowned slightly.

"You will leave a werewolf in the school? What if someone gets hurt? What if Black plays a joke like that again?"

"Since Mr. Lupin started attending this school two years ago no major incidents have occurred. Nobody got hurt and nobody will get hurt, I assure you that."

Snape didn't seem convinced. As a matter of fact he seemed to be really angry.

"What about me, then? What would have happened, if I had got through to the end of that tunnel? I'm sure I would have received more than a split brow."

Dumbledore rested a hand on the boy's knee.

"But nothing did happen. James Potter interfered and kept you from getting into that tunnel. Maybe you should think about that as well."

The kindness that radiated from the headmaster seemed to infuriate the young Slytherin even more.

"Does that mean they will not get punished?"

"Mr. Black will be punished – for endangering you as well as for not keeping the secret. But I wouldn't know what to punish Mr. Potter for."

He looked down on the boy curiously. When there was no answer apart from a pair of fiery dark eyes staring back at him he added:

"You should consider getting a little bit more social with your classmates. As far as I understand it most of your current friends will be leaving the school after this term – even though there is a slight chance that Mr. Crabbe and Mr. Goyle might join us again in the coming year."

The old wizard chuckled to himself but stopped quickly when he saw the boy in front of him frown. He sighed.

"I am not trying to criticize your choice of friends, Mr. Snape. In fact, I'm glad that you found a group to feel comfortable in. However, they will leave school soon and you will stay with us for another four years. Give the other students a chance to find out about your qualities as well; it would be a pity for them as well as for you, if you didn't."

The young Slytherin had started fiddling with the cloth of his robes again, staring down at his own hands, trying to hide the blush that covered his face. Dumbledore placed a hand under the boy's chin and raised it, smiling affectionately.

"I know I can trust you, Mr. Snape. You will not talk about the things that have been revealed to you tonight to anyone. You will be a better secret keeper than a certain Gryffindor, I'm sure of that."

Snape dared to smile back at the older wizard. He seemed a little disappointed when the headmaster drew back his hand, but pulled himself together quickly.

"May I go now, sir?"

Dumbledore nodded and Snape climbed out of the oversized armchair with a little difficulty; his feet had hardly been able to touch the ground while sitting in it. The boy was already on the first step leading down and out of the office when the headmaster said calmly:

"My door will always be open for you, child."

Snape smiled back at the old man, this time with genuine warmth and gratefulness. Then he stormed down the stairs all the way down into the dungeons.

Harry didn't know what to think. The picture of his godfather had already suffered irreparable damage before, so that part was less dramatic. He had known before that this childish yet immensely dangerous prank had been Sirius' idea. Yet somehow he had imagined his father to be a little bit more heroic in that episode, Snape a lot more nosy and disagreeable, Dumbledore more just.

It would have been right to call Sirius upon his lie. Harry understood that his father wouldn't do it to his friend, but Dumbledore shouldn't have accepted this dishonesty right to his face.

It would also have been right to make Sirius apologize to Snape for that verbal abuse. How often had he wished someone would make Malfoy say "I'm sorry" for one of the innumerable insults, no matter if he meant it or not? The main thing would have been to see Malfoy humiliated for a change.

And what about the punishment? After all, Snape _could_ have died, had he made his way to the end of the tunnel and met Lupin as a fully grown werewolf.

Suddenly Harry wondered if Lupin had ever been able to forgive Sirius for this. He had nearly been made to kill a person.

At the table beside Tonks Remus Lupin had raised his head and was staring at Snape with an expression of wonder on his pale and tired face.

"My God, he was worried about me", he whispered quietly. Tonks started stroking his dishevelled hair until tears rolled down his face freely.


	17. Chapter 17: Little Moments of Triumph

**Chapter 17: Little Moments of Triumph**

Harry tore his gaze away from the shocked Lupin. Mrs. Weasley had left her husband's side and was moving around the table, towards Dumbledore. Deadalus Diggle held out a hand to stop her.

"This has gone far enough", she whispered sharply and even Harry, who didn't know her as well as her children did, heard the anger in her voice. If looks could have killed, Diggle would have been but a pile of ashes on the floor by now.

"Too many people in this room are getting hurt by this and I, for my part, don't need to see more. It's already way past anything I ever wanted to know about this man."

"Not for me, it isn't", Moody growled in a low voice, looking at her with his normal eye while the magical one stayed fixed on the Potions Master beside him. "I'm too close to finally getting answers I've been waiting for since I first encountered him. Besides, do you want all this to be for nothing? Snape will react rather harshly to this, I presume, so we should try to make the most of it while we still can."

Harry found Moody more dislikeable by the minute and obviously Mrs. Weasley thought the same way. Her determined attempt to argue was surprisingly prevented by her husband, though.

"He's right, Molly", Arthur Weasley said regretfully while putting an arm around his wife's shoulder. "We've gone too far already. Besides, I don't think it's a good idea to interrupt their connection. One of them has to do it, I guess, if we don't want more harm to be done."

Harry hadn't even thought about that possibility. What would happen if their connection was interrupted externally now, by force? Would one of them suffer some kind of brain damage? Or both of them? Would it be even possible to break a spell that a wizard as strong as Albus Dumbledore had cast?

He decided that he didn't want to find out.

The ranks around the Quidditch pitch were packed with students. Snape sat beside Lucius Malfoy, both of them wearing green and shouting encouragements for their team. At the edge of their bench Narcissa sat with her forefingers pressed firmly into her ears, a book open on her knees. Her lips were moving while she read.

"And Patrick Brandon caught the Snitch! Slytherin wins!"

The commentator sounded rather excited and decidedly less disappointed than Lee Jordan would have under similar circumstances. The crowd around Snape and Malfoy cheered. One boy had started jumping up and down excitedly, pushing Narcissa in the back in the process. The book dropped off her knees and disappeared, tumbling down towards the ground underneath the wooden construction. Cursing loudly she pushed the cheering boys out of the path and made her way down to retrieve the volume. Lucius was on his way to follow her, but Snape held him back. The boy was grinning all over his face and there was an unusual tinge of colour to his cheeks.

"What?" Lucius demanded, somewhere between curious and annoyed. "The game is over. What are you waiting for?"

Snape stood on the bench now and looked down onto the pitch excitedly.

"I just want to catch a look at the guys who clean up after the match. I think they don't get appreciated the way they ought to."

Lucius threw him a suspicious look.

"How long have you been in the sun today, eagle nose? You know you're not used to it, maybe you've got sunstroke."

He moved closer to his housemate and tried to mockingly lay a hand on the boy's forehead. Snape, however, waved it away impatiently, a gesture that earned him a dangerously glowering look, and pointed down.

"There, there! Do you see him? My God, he really has to do it!"

A boy shuffled reluctantly across the sand, picking up twigs that some of the brooms had lost during the game, and made his way towards the Slytherin changing rooms. His head hung down and he kicked at innocent pebbles with a vigour that suggested extreme disappointment – or anger.

"Is that … Sirius Black?" Lucius asked in amazement, his anger at the other boy momentarily forgotten. Snape looked at him with a joyful expression on his flushed face.

"Yep. Sirius Black. The new responsible for the Quidditch robes of the Slytherin team. Getting them clean, keeping them in order, that's his job now for the rest of the term."

"What did he do to deserve that?" Lucius was still staring after the figure that slowly made its way inside the small building at the other end of the pitch. Snape raised an eyebrow, did his best to look innocent and shrugged, a big mischievous smile still on his face.

"Who knows?"

Together the boys finally climbed down and joined Narcissa in her by now desperate search for the lost book. After banging their heads several times against the wooden beams and laughing at each other's clumsiness they finally found it and headed back towards the castle. Snape was almost skipping.

"Do you already know if you'll go home over Christmas, Severus?" Narcissa asked the uncharacteristically cheerful boy. "Because, if you don't … you see … Lucius and Phillip and Gerard and me, we're staying … and maybe you could …"

"What Narcissa wants to know", Lucius interrupted the girl's stutters "is if you would consider sacrificing Christmas with your parents to join us here and help us learn for the N.E.W.T.s."

The boy stopped skipping and kept on walking normally beside his friends.

"I guess it would be ok", he answered after a few seconds. "I already wrote to them that I'm helping you and that I also have a lot of work to do myself. I'll just ask them and if father agrees, I'll sign up for staying here as well. They probably won't even miss me", he added quietly. 

The two 7th year Slytherins linked arms with him on either side.

"That, my friend, is mighty generous of you", Lucius declared in a mock-aristocratic accent. "If your parents don't know how to appreciate your presence, let me assure you that we do, immensely to be precise. We are much obliged to you for your kindness, sir."

He attempted to bow down while walking, which resulted in all three of them stumbling.

"Lucius, be sensible", Narcissa chided her friend when she had caught her balance again. Then she turned her beautiful face towards the younger boy.

"Seriously, Severus, I appreciate your help very much. I wouldn't know what to do without you."

Snape smiled shyly.

"How about you tell your parents about Slytherin's very own new grounds man in your next letter as well?" Lucius suggested playfully as they entered the castle and made their way down towards the dungeons. "I somehow have the feeling that your father is the kind of person to appreciate the subtle irony. He knows Black's mother, as I understand it", Narcissa nodded a positive "so he might even be able to find out how the bastard earned that much sought after position. Black's mom doesn't speak to Narcissa's family right now, because of … well, you know, the thing with Andromeda."

Narcissa shot him a sharp, yet at the same time hurt look, burst into tears and started running away into the opposite direction. Lucius sighed.

"I don't know what I hate more, her stupid sensitive feelings or my stupid big mouth."

He smiled ruefully at his younger friend and then casually jogged after the crying girl.

Snape had a very odd expression on his face. Thoughts were seemingly racing through his mind at lightning speed and adding up to something that he didn't like in the least. He stood in the hallway irresolutely for another minute before he slowly turned around and walked back up again, out of the dungeons, up to the entrance hall and up another staircase. His head was lowered and his eyes seemed to be focused on something inside of himself. He walked steadily on until he came to a halt outside the headmaster's office. Raising his head he noticed that there was no door handle, not even a door, no way to make his presence noticed. There was just this averagely ugly gargoyle which seemed to be smirking at him.

"Now where is that bloody door that's always supposed to be open for me?" he muttered annoyed while his fingers searched the gargoyle's stone body for any sign of a button or a lever. With a little squeaking noise the gargoyle turned its ugly head and a staircase appeared which started rotating upwards, carrying a very confused Severus Snape with it.

Harry remembered that feeling well. It was bewildering, this sensation of being transported upwards by seemingly solid stone. You couldn't really decide if you were moving or the world around you. The first time he had been on that staircase he had nearly stumbled off and he wondered to this day what would have happened then. Would the movement have stopped? Or would the stairs have crashed those particular bones of his that would have been in the way?

Snape steadied himself by resting his hand on the rotating inner pillar. When the stairs came to a halt he took a hasty step into the room, giving the once again solid stone a slightly angry look.

"You didn't do that last time. You were just there, without moving. If I have a choice, I would prefer that way next time."

A little noise behind him made him turn around carefully and he ducked down just in time to avoid a collision with a huge swooping bird. Red feathers touched his face lightly and the phoenix twittered in a voice surprisingly high for such a large creature.

"Fawkes is a very friendly fellow, Mr. Snape. He just wanted to take a closer look at you."

Albus Dumbledore elegantly walked down a flight of stairs that the boy hadn't noticed before. As the headmaster strolled towards his desk, gesturing at the Slytherin to sit down, Fawkes took another attempt at landing on the boy's shoulder. This time he succeeded. Long talons carefully gripped the thin shoulder blades and one of the wings seemed to caress a slightly flushed cheek. Snape placed his hands on the chairs backrest in a firm grip, doing his best to ignore the bird.

"I think I will not be able to keep the secret about Lupin", he said with a steady voice and looked the headmaster directly into the eyes. The older wizard leaned forward slightly.

"Is that the statement of a fact, Mr. Snape? Or a threat?"

The boy shook his head and finally sat down, Fawkes still on his shoulder.

"You said you don't know my father, sir. Then let me tell you a few things about him. He is used to being in control of everything and everyone near him. He doesn't accept disobedience. He doesn't accept being contradicted. And he doesn't accept secrets. He has his ways of finding out everything he wants to know without even asking. It's like … he somehow looks into my mind … I can't really …"

The boy's voice had become lower and lower until in the end it was almost inaudible. Fawkes attempted to nibble his ear affectionately, but Dumbledore waved the bird away. The old wizard got up, walked around the still chaotic desk and positioned himself right in front of the clearly embarrassed boy. A couple of chocolate frogs boxes tumbled to the floor as his cloak brushed across the tabletop.

"Does he perform Legilimens on you?" he asked quietly.

Snape nodded.

"How often?"

The boy shrugged.

"Every time he thinks I'm hiding something. When he has the feeling I might not have acted according to his wishes. When he wants to find out if I studied hard enough."

Dumbledore's expression was unreadable, though there seemed to be an angry spark in his twinkling blue eyes.

"And now you are afraid that on your return home he will find out what you know about Mr. Lupin."

"I know he will", Snape answered gravely, his eyes still fixed on the worn out rug underneath his feet. "It's a kind of routine check when I come home from school. Spares him the discomfort of asking me how my term was and actually listen to me."

Dumbledore looked at him thoughtfully.

"And what are you asking me to do now, Mr. Snape? Do you want my permission to stay here at Hogwarts over the holidays? Over Christmas that is easily done and I'm sure we could find a solution for the summer as well. It might not be such a bad idea for you to remain absent from your father's house for a while."

Snape shook his head and looked up again.

"No, sir. I don't want to leave my mother alone with him for too long."

The headmaster nodded.

"Then what can we do? How can I help you, child?"

The boy took a deep breath and wiped his obviously sweaty hands on his cloak.

"Can you teach me how to block him, how to keep him out of my mind?"

There was a moment of silence in which only the boy's heavy breathing could be heard. His eyes rested on the headmaster expectantly, almost desperately. Finally, after what must have seemed like an eternity to Snape, Dumbledore nodded.

"Actually you are a little young to receive a training like that. However I must admit that there seems to be a necessity for it. Would you like to start right now?"

"No wonder he was good enough to teach you, Harry", Hermione whispered excitedly. "He started training really early on and he had the best teacher." 

She sounded impressed.

Harry felt a twinge of anger. Why hadn't Dumbledore offered to teach him? Why had he given the duty to Snape? Surely the headmaster would have been the better and more patient teacher. Surely with him Harry would have mastered Occlumency faster, would have fought off the urge to find out more about that room and the shiny orbs and all the other things he had seen through Voldemort's eyes. And surely his training would have been less painful.

Inside the bubble Snape had just crumpled down onto the floor, pressing both of his hands to his temples. Dumbledore walked over to him slowly and tucked his wand away.

"You have to change your defences, child. They are strong, but of the wrong kind."

He helped the boy up with a steady hand.

"It's like you lock a huge iron door, which does keep me out effectively. I haven't been able to penetrate them after the first time. However, it's also a dead giveaway that you, in fact, have something to hide, something that needs to be locked away."

The boy sighed heavily.

"You have to try and make your shields more subtle", the headmaster went on. "Try to draw a curtain over you thoughts, preferably one made of the same material as an invisibility cloak. Then I will only be able to see what you allow me to see – and I will not even be aware of the possibility that there might be more."

Snape seemed to ponder on that for a while. The characteristic frown between his brows had appeared and he looked like he was extremely displeased with himself.

"Relax, child."

Dumbledore's voice was soft and low and had attainted a slightly lulling quality. Snape closed his eyes and forced his breathing to come more evenly. He was swaying slightly, but after a few seconds he found his balance and stood still. The tension seemed to drip off his shoulders. His whole skinny frame seemed to soften.

Dumbledore's wand appeared back in his hand and he whispered:"Legilimens."

Snape's brow twitched slightly, the rest of his face, however, stayed calm. He opened his eyes, but instead of looking at the headmaster he rested his gaze on Fawkes. The bird gave an appreciative squawk and the boy smiled.

Dumbledore opened his eyes and smiled as well.

"Very good, Mr. Snape. Indeed, most impressive. I don't think I ever had a student who grasped that concept so fast. Shall we meet again, let's say, next Thursday?"

Snape nodded and bowed his head slightly, before waving goodbye to the phoenix and disappearing down the staircase. He had a triumphant look on his face.


	18. Chapter 18: Alone

A/N: Thanks to all those who read, reviewed and enquired after me. And thank you also for your patience. It was never my intention to leave you all waiting so long, but life seemed to think I had run out of tragedies to inspire my writing and provided me with the opportunity to stock up. I wasn't really in the position to argue. 

From now on things will hopefully go a little more smoothly and I will be able to update again regularly. Thanks again for waiting for me for so long.

**Chapter**** 18: Alone**

For the first time ever Harry wondered who cleaned up his Quidditch robes. Wasn't that a job for the house elves? Sirius must have been livid about this sentence. Yet Harry couldn't help feeling that it was not exactly an adequate punishment for an offence as big as his Godfather had committed - unless the sweat of Slytherin Quidditch players was potentially more dangerous than he had thought up until now.

However, that was only a little musing in the back of his head. What must it feel like to know that you are never safe, not in your own home, not even in your own head? Snape had invaded his mind during their Occlumency lessons, but there had been a chance for defending himself – or at least a chance of escape. Harry had thought himself the youngest student to ever learn about Occlumency. Pompous as ever, he realized with a rueful smile. Now he found that Snape had beaten him. And he wasn't envious in the least. He did store Dumbledore's advice about drawing a curtain, though, for later use. That picture made the whole concept so much easier to understand. Harry wondered why Snape had never used it to explain the idea to him.

Beside him Hermione had started working on her fingernails again while muttering, more to herself than to anyone else:

"Obviously not talented enough to block an intrusion of this calibre."

Harry thought that pretty much summed it up.

The younger Snape was sitting inside what seemed to be the Malfoys' limousine. He was flanking Lucius on the left side, while the young man had his arm around Narcissa on his right. The dark haired boy stared out the window quietly, trying to ignore the little kisses and not exactly subtle exchanges of physical affection going on right beside him. At a red traffic light, when his mouth was not occupied elsewhere, Lucius put his free arm around Snape's thin shoulders and declared cheerfully:

"Thanks to you we all passed, Severus. Even Crabbe and Goyle. I think the only one more surprised about that than them was good old Dumbledore. And for that you deserve praise again. Well done, eagle nose!"

He pulled his friend a little closer in a mock attempt to plant a kiss on his dark hair, but the boy wriggled out of his reach and pressed his nose against the window again. A tear was slowly rolling down his pale cheek.

"Are you crying?" Lucius asked in shock and clearly too loud for Snape's taste. Narcissa tugged at her boyfriend's sleeve and whispered into his ear:

"Are you really this stupid or are you still drunk from last night's party? We are leaving. All of us. This was our last year at Hogwarts and next term he will have to return on his own. I would be crying, too, if I was in his shoes."

Lucius focused on the huddled black form beside him.

"Is that it?" he asked the younger boy. "Are you afraid of going back to school next term alone?"

Snape shook his head, still staring out the window, and wiped his face with a well-worn sleeve.

"No, it's got nothing to do with that."

Lucius let go off Narcissa now, grabbed the other boy by the shoulders and forced him to turn around.

"Then why are you sad? We gave Black, Potter and Lupin a good thumping before we left and that slimy little Pettigrew will be lucky if he loses the donkey's ears before the start of the new term. Your marks are good as always and Dumbledore finally has the decency not to comment on that anymore, so no reason to be afraid your old man is going to freak out again. And from what I saw at last night's party you already found yourself a nice set of new friends."

Snape's eyes grew bigger suddenly and he hissed:

"But I don't want new friends, Lucius. I was perfectly content with the ones that I had."

He lowered his gaze again.

"Don't worry, I'll be fine. I can understand that you won't have time for me anymore with the big career that your father is planning for you. But maybe you could send an owl from time to time."

Lucius stared at him in disbelieve.

"So you think that we will not see each other anymore, just because we graduated?"

He let out a relieved laugh.

"And I thought you were the cleverest one of us! Severus, listen to me." 

With that he put his long forefinger under Snape's chin and lifted his face, much like it was his mother's habit with the shy young Slytherin.

"We will always have time for you. Especially I will. I hope you will understand that my desire to visit you in school is not exactly high; I'm glad I finally escaped the bloody place. But during the holidays we will still see each other. It's just this one summer you will have to do without me and Narcissa."

The girl reached across her boyfriend's chest and ruffled Snape's hair.

"You know we're greedy", she said grinning. "We just couldn't say no to a trip through Europe with all expenses paid by his parents."

She gave Lucius a wicked smile.

"Just you and me, cute one, for eight whole weeks. Are you really up for it?"

Lucius blushed a little, making his two companions smile. By the time the car stopped outside the Snape residence they had already made plans for meeting at King's Cross in two month three hours before the train would leave for Hogwarts. The young Snape looked relieved as he waved the dark limousine goodbye, picked up his heavy trunk and started dragging it towards the door.

This time nobody was waiting for him outside. He rang the bell and waited. Nothing moved inside the house. No lights were on apparently, for the windows looked down on him with dark eyes. He rang once more and listened intently as the dark mournful sound echoed through the house. The empty house. Sighing he stowed the trunk away in a large crevice under the stairs and made his way to the back of the building, probably to look for an alternative entrance. 

The garden was far from well kept. In fact it resembled something like a wilderness with the ambition to turn into a jungle and the fact that it was dark didn't help. Snape didn't seem to mind, though. With sure steps he found his way to a little back door beside which stood a pot with blooming lavender. He fumbled around with the pot and the flower for a while and the frown between his brows deepened. As he withdrew his now dirty hands he stared from them to the flower, confusion in his eyes. 

"Why did they remove the key?" he murmured quietly. Finally he shrugged his shoulders and started to head back towards the front door, presumably to wait there for his parents. He hadn't reached the front yard yet when heavy rain started to pour down all of a sudden, as if someone had just opened a valve. Dark eyes stared at the sky accusingly.

"Great. Just great."

Muttering relatively harmless curses under his breath he started jogging towards the far end of the garden where a huge oak tree dominated the area. Underneath the tree was a field of blossoming daisies and a spot where obviously no water reached the ground. Snape settled down there and stared out into the rain. The daisies around him slowly opened up despite the lack of sunshine and the night seemed a little less dark somehow.

"I missed you, too", the boy whispered quietly and a sad smile spread across his face.

Harry was confused. Snape talked to flowers? Or to trees? He couldn't understand how anyone would feel comfortable in that joke of a garden. He wouldn't be surprised, if there had been flesh-eating plants somewhere in that mangle of too high grass, weed, out-of-control bushes and knotted trees – and he was not thinking of insects as their preferred main course.

But then again – he had also seen the inside of the house and had got a good long look at its inhabitants. Maybe the garden was really the better alternative.

The sun was slowly rising again when Snape woke up. He was still lying under the tree, huddled into his school robes which where as wet as the rest of him. Momentarily confused he stared towards the house, then obviously the memory of last night hit him and he sighed heavily. He tried to bring some sort of order into his tangled mess of black hair and wrung out his robes as he went slowly back to the house. By the time he rang the bell again he looked slightly more presentable than a hobo.

"Severus?"

His mother looked terrible. Dark rings were under here beautiful eyes and through her faded dressing gown it was clearly visible that she had lost too much weight. Her face was white as a lily, but there were bruises around her wrists in the shape of fingers. Her son took a hesitant step towards her and reached out an equally hesitant hand to rest on her arm.

"The summer holidays have started, mother. Did you not remember that I was supposed to come home last night?"

Her four-fingered right hand flew to her mouth in shock while her left pulled him towards her.

"Oh my God, I really forgot. Severus, I'm so sorry. Did you sleep outside all night? Oh, look how wet you are. Let's get you inside and into something warm and dry."

She clutched him to her side and walked inside on unsteady legs.

"My trunk is still outside", he told her softly, pressed her hand shortly and was just turning around when he saw his father walking down the stairs.

"No, it's not. I already brought it into your room. It was very careless of you to leave it under the stairs. Somebody could have found and taken it. We can't afford new school books and robes for you right now, so you should take better care of your things."

The older man was dressed in a rich gown of crimson velvet. He wore leather boots that reached over the knee and in his hand he held a book that looked extremely old – and extremely expensive. His son stared up at him boldly for a moment before his mother clenched four fingers into his arm. Reluctantly he lowered his gaze and muttered:" Sorry, father."

The old Snape nodded.

"Change your clothes, please; your cloak is dripping on the floor. When you're done meet me in the study."

He turned around and walked up the stairs again gracefully.

"Can't he first eat something? He's been outside all night."

The woman's voice sounded as thin and worn a she herself looked. Both voice and speaker were trembling. Her husband kept on walking without an answer.

"He knew I was outside, mother", Snape said, and there was a bitter ring to his voice. "You heard him, he took in the trunk."

She looked at him with a puzzled expression.

"He would never do something like that. He wouldn't. No, he wouldn't."

She kept repeating these words over and over again and was shaking her head as she walked into the kitchen. Her son stared after her with a mix of anger and worry displayed on his young face.

Ten minutes later he was in the study, dressed in clean and dry robes. His father turned around as the boy closed the door behind him. With a few long strides he had covered the distance between them, grabbed his son's shoulders violently and spun the child around.

"Look at me" he hissed imperiously. Snape obeyed and stared into the older man's cold eyes unblinkingly as a hoarse voice whispered "_Legilimens!_" Long fingers clenched into his shoulders. The man's gaze intensified and the boy flinched a little. After a couple of minutes the old Snape seemed to be satisfied and released his son.

"Good. You are doing well at school and have the right friends – and the right enemies, which is almost more important."

He smiled a wolfish smile.

"As far as your questions about last night are concerned – I figured that you were obviously too tired to wait for us at the front door like it would have been decent, so I was nice enough to let you sleep. Ah, and the key that you were looking for…. The lock doesn't work anymore. It can't be opened, neither from the outside nor from the inside, so we thought we might as well throw away the key. Nobody uses the door anymore."

The boy was biting is lower lip, probably trying to hold back a comment. His hands were clenched into fists and the coldness in his eyes rivalled the coldness in his father's voice.

"May I go now, sir?" he asked surprisingly calm.

The older man nodded and waved him away with a lazy gesture.

On his way down into the kitchen the boy kicked every single prop in the banister with a ferocity that made him look much older than he actually was. By the time he entered the kitchen he was actually limping a little bit.

His mother sat at the table, head in her hands, and ignored the persistently whistling kettle. She was staring blankly at the wall.

Snape hurried to the oven, put down the kettle and started preparing tea for the two of them. When he was done he carefully carried the two cups over to the table, poured milk into them and placed one steaming cup directly under his mother's head.

She looked up at him. Her eyes were red from crying.

"Severus, he is not like that. You have to believe me. He loves us, you and me. Whatever he does is for our best, we … you have to believe that."

He laid a hand gently on her arm, but the look he gave her was hard and piercing.

"He loves no one but himself. You and me, we are just decorum for his obsession with his own brilliance. We are here to prove a point."

She lashed out unexpectedly, hitting him full in the face so hard that he fell over the backrest of his chair. He pressed a hand to his split lip from which blood was slowly dripping and clambered to his feet again. His mother looked livid.

"You have no right to talk like that about your father. Remember your manners! Show him the respect that he deserves!"

He almost couldn't see her through his tears as she stormed out of the kitchen and up into the study. Suddenly realizing what she was about to do he dashed towards the front door, ripped it open and stormed out. His breathing was ragged from anger and fear and his eyes were desperately travelling up and down the street. Then, gradually, his shoulders slumped down, his hands relaxed and he hung is head. Quietly he turned around on his heels and walked back inside. As he closed the door he already heard his father storming towards him, fire in his eyes, belt in his hands and "_Crucio!_" on his lips.

"Why didn't he run away, that bloody idiot?" Ron asked stricken. Harry turned around to face his friend with a serious expression on his face.

"And where would he have gone to?" he asked. Ron just stared back at him and gulped.


	19. Chapter 19: With the best intention

**Chapter 19: With the best intention**

"Well, Hogwarts would have been one alternative"muttered a rather shaken Ginny. She was shuddering slightly and pulled the blanket closer around her shoulders. Hermione shook her head.

"You can't just find your way to Hogwarts", she explained in a low voice. "At least not as a student. Don't you remember your first year? Ron and Harry had to follow the Hogwarts Express in that stupid flying car, because they just didn't know in which direction to look for the school. I have been studying all the books available on the subject and I couldn't even tell you in which part of England it is."

Harry perfectly understood that dilemma. Running away from the Dursleys had often seemed tempting. Unfortunately the temptation had never been accompanied by any idea of an alternative dwelling, since he didn't even know how to find his way to The Burrow, let alone to a secret wizarding school that he had only ever reached thanks to the help of magically powered vehicles.

A decidedly taller Severus Snape was just entering the hospital wing carrying a bag that appeared to be heavy. As he walked the bag's contents emitted a tinkling sound as if glass bottles were touching each other lightly.

"Severus! What a pleasant surprise!" Madame Pomfrey exclaimed upon seeing the Slytherin. She strode over to him with long yet graceful strides, her robes swishing prettily. She had been a very attractive woman. When she reached the boy she looked at him critically. Reaching up she tried to push a strand of black hair from his face, but he took a quick step back and out of her reach.

"I have something for you."

He held up the bag and moved with it towards the nurse's desk in the back of the room where he unpacked several bottles, vials and jars.

"I thought I might as well do something useful during detention and brewing potions for you is definitely more constructive than copying half the textbook."

His voice had dropped dramatically and almost sounded like the dreaded thunder his students feared today.

"You had detention again?" Poppy gave him an accusing look, her fists resting on her hips. 

"How on earth do you get drawn into all those fights? Did no one ever teach you the strategy of feeling superior and just walking away?"

Snape turned around and faced her with a raised eyebrow.

"Why do you automatically assume that I get drawn into these fights? Am I not the type for starting it in the first place?" 

He looked rather indignant.

"No, what I mean is that trouble usually finds you before you have a chance to go out and look for it."

This time he did not back away as she reached up and stroked his face gently.

Snape had just started to head towards the door when Minerva McGonagall entered the hospital wing. She was sneezing violently and every time she did so tiny explosions of green smoke erupted from her ears. The young Slytherin was just walking past her when another blast made her handkerchief disintegrate into tiny bits that fluttered towards the floor. She sighed heavily and started searching her robes for a substitute; her student, however, proved to be faster. His slightly grey handkerchief pressed against her swollen nose and Snape himself steadying her by the elbow she made her way to a nearby bed on which she sank heavily. Madame Pomfrey was already scuttling over, three bottles pressed against chest.

"Don't worry, Minerva, you are not the first one today. If I get those rascals who made up that spell I swear I will remove all of their bones and then grow them back again. Luckily I know the trick by now, you will be out of here again in a minute. Severus, could you hold this for me?"

She had just been handing him one of the bottles when Snape's left hand suddenly started to shake violently. The trembling spread through his entire body in a couple of seconds, causing him to drop the bottle. He caught himself on the bed's metal rail just in time. McGonagall stared at him with a look of utter shock; she hardly noticed that the fumes coming out of her ears had changed from green to deep crimson. With sure hands Poppy led the boy to another bed, wiped away the blood that had started running from his nose and placed a curtain around his bed.

"Just rest for a second, okay? And before you leave from here I want you to eat something."

He nodded and she left. From behind the curtain whispers could be heard as McGonagall obviously demanded to know what had happened just then. Snape closed his eyes and pressed his hands against his temples.

"What was that all about?" Hermione whispered. She had stopped biting her fingernails and settled on twirling her hair around a finger instead.

Harry had a vague idea. After learning about Neville's parents and their fate he had read up on a few medical details about torture – Hermione had accused him of having a slightly perverted taste in literature at that time – and therefore he knew that continued use of the Cruciatus curse could often result in sudden spontaneous tremors.

Snape hesitantly opened one eye as he heard the curtain being drawn. Professor McGonagall gave him a piercing look and he closed his eye again.

"Why didn't you tell anyone?"

Her voice sounded calm, matter-of-factly.

"Poppy knew", he answered. He was still resting on the bed and his eyes were still closed. The Professor didn't seem to mind.

"You can't go back there and I don't want any discussion about that. I'll talk to Professor Dumbledore and we will arrange for you to stay in school over the Christmas holidays. In the meantime we will present your case to somebody from the Ministry and make them take a decision. Do you have any relatives that could take you in?"

Slowly he opened his eyes and looked at her.

"There will be no discussion, because I will not stay here. There are no relatives who could or would take me in and the fact that you even ask me that shows that you know absolutely nothing about my situation. Professor Dumbledore already offered me to stay over the holidays. I declined and he accepted that. So should you."

She sat down on the bed beside him and sighed heavily. Suddenly she looked very tired. Carefully she rested a hand on his arm and he didn't try to move away. None of them said anything for a while.

"Mr. Snape, I have seen you walk into this school at the start of every new term looking like a freshly released prisoner, pale, undernourished and forlorn. And your first way leads you almost always into the hospital wing. I have seen you walk out of this school at the end of every term a little bit stronger, a little bit more upright and a little bit more proud. I can' t help but drawing the conclusion that this school is good for you, while the place you go to from here is not good for you. And I want good things to happen to my students, especially to the ones as bright and talented as you. Let me help you. Please."

Harry hadn't known she could be like this. Minerva McGonagall was an excellent teacher and a devoted head of house and he had never doubted for a single second that she had a place in her heart for all of her students. The sound of her voice right now had surprised him, nevertheless. This was the sound he had always assigned to a mother.

Snape swung his legs around and sat beside his teacher for a moment. His head was level with hers, yet he still took to the boyish gesture of looking down at the tips of his shoes.

"If it was just me and him I would have asked to stay here already in my first year. But it's not. I am the only one she has, even if she doesn't realise that. I cannot leave her alone."

His dark eyes were calm and determined.

"As long as she stays I will stay."

Sweat was slowly dripping from Dumbledore's nose onto the carpet in Grimmauld Place. A deep frown had buried itself between the headmaster's brows, a visible sign of the enormous fight that was going on inside the man's mind.

Snape's face looked equally tense, yet something had changed. Harry couldn't put his finger on it. Bill Weasley still hadn't released his grip on the Potion Master's arm and Alastor Moody seemed more determined than ever to hear this story until the end. Snape's eyes were still closed, his hands still clenched into fists, his back still against the wall. 

But the look of pain was gone.

Without knowing why Harry was suddenly sure.

"He is editing now. He decides what we see."

The door to the headmaster's office flew open and in stormed a very agitated Severus Snape. His eyes were blazing and he seemed to literally shake with anger.

"What the hell does he think he is doing?" he demanded loudly as he came to halt in front of the desk. Minerva McGonagall looked up at him with a stern expression.

"First of all I would prefer it if you didn't talk about the headmaster in that tone, Mr. Snape. Second, this is no way to enter any room, let alone the office of Albus Dumbledore. If you calm down, I will inform you of the steps the headmaster has taken."

Ignoring her calm voice and firm words he pressed his hands flat on the tabletop, leaned down and looked her directly into the eyes.

"Sirius Black just informed me and a corridor full of students that Professor Dumbledore was on a rescue mission to save my mistreated mother from my dangerously eccentric father. Naturally I came here immediately to thank the brave hero for trying to save my obviously deranged family. Now where is he?!"

Harry and the others knew that sound only too well. Snape's favourite weapon was sarcasm, preferably delivered in either a deadly whisper or an arrogantly calm voice. He only ever yelled when he was beside himself with rage, when he was on the verge of losing control.

"I had to inform him about your situation, Mr. Snape. I would never have forgiven myself had you not returned to school one day."

There was a deep sadness in her eyes as she finally rose from her chair and met the angry boy's gaze.

"The headmaster wasn't willing to take that risk, either, yet we both didn't want to ignore your choice. So right now he is talking to your mother, trying to persuade her to move into a little cottage near Hogsmeade, for her own protection as well as yours."

Snape stared at her in disbelief. Just then Fawkes left his customary place and flew over to the door, landing neatly on Albus Dumbledore's shoulder. The old wizard looked tired and bruised. There was a long scratch across his left cheek on which the Phoenix was just applying his very own healing potion. Snape looked at the older man in horror.

"You will stay here at Hogwarts over the coming holidays, Mr. Snape. You will have your own chambers and free access to all the school's facilities. We will talk about the detailed arrangements later, because right now …."

"What happened?"

The boy's voice was down to a dangerous whisper.

"What did he do to her? What did you make him do to her?"

Dumbledore pulled himself up again and straightened his shoulders.

"Your mother chose to remain with your father. They both literally cursed me out of the house. Neither of them wants to see you again."

He looked at the young Slytherin with wet eyes.

"I'm so sorry, child."

Snape opened his mouth as if to say something. His hand reached into his pocket, fingering his wand. Then, without another word, he stormed out of the office.

The next thing they saw in the bubble was a short letter, written in red ink on luxurious paper.

_Traitors will find no place in our house or our hearts. You have found yourself a powerful protector and you have done so wisely, for should I ever catch you out of the walls of Hogwarts I will do what I should have done ten years ago._

_I mistook you for being worth more than your sister and that was a mistake. You know I rarely make mistakes and if I do, I correct them._

_You have neither the brain nor the heart of a wizard and I deeply regret not to have realised that earlier._

There was no address or signature. Snape folded up the piece of parchment with extreme care and placed it in a dog-eared book which he then locked in the trunk at the end of his bed. His eyes were hard and cold as he made his way from the Slytherin common room into the library. On his way there he passed Minerva McGonagall and even though she very much tried to catch his eye he walked past her without so much as a glance.


	20. Chapter 20: Given the Choice

**Chapter 20: Given the Choice**

Harry heard Ron muttering to himself.

"He meant well. He only wanted to help."

Yes, of course Dumbledore had meant well, he always did and he always wanted to help. The only problem with that was that he never actually cared if the person concerned wanted that help. Harry himself had received "help" on more than one occasion and would have been happier without it a couple of times. Thinking back he still wondered if Dumbledore had counted on him to find his way into the school's vault in his first year, if it had been his plan from the beginning that Harry should defend the Philosopher's Stone. It had, in fact, helped Harry to grow up, to strengthen his bond with his friends, to realize his own potential and to earn the respect of many students. On the other hand, it could have killed him just as easily.

Inside the bubble Albus Dumbledore was very close to something that could only be described as throwing a tantrum. He was pacing through his office, gesturing agitatedly and shouting in turns at the two people standing in front of his chaotic desk. One of them was Minerva McGonagall, facing the wall behind the desk with a firm look, hands clasped behind her back. The other one was an extremely smug looking Severus Snape. The boy was trying, rather half-heartedly, to suppress a smile.

"How could you, Minerva?! And behind my back! I thought we had agreed that keeping him here would be the best solution."

McGonagall's voice was calm and her gaze never left the wall.

"No Albus, _we_ didn't agree on that, _you_ decided. And I didn't do anything behind your back. The letter arrived while you were absent, I took care of the matter as Deputy Headmistress and I informed you immediately after your arrival."

The old wizard stopped in front of her and gave her a menacing stare which she chose to ignore completely. The corners of Snape's mouth twitched ever so slightly.

"But now it's too late, Minerva!"

He shouted it directly into her face, causing her glasses to steam-up.

"You wrote back that '_we should talk about this proposal and decide what is best for the boy'_. You should just have turned him down. How can I object to his offer now?"

Finally she looked at him.

"You can't. And you shouldn't. Sending him there would indeed be the best for him and he would be as safe there as he is here. Now, do you want to stand here and shout at me a little longer or shall I ask Lord Malfoy in?"

Dumbledore stared at her a moment longer, presumably questioning his decision to ever make her his right hand. Then he walked over towards his desk, setting his robes in order, running shaky fingers through his long beard and muttering under his breath.

McGonagall took a deep breath, gave an encouraging look to the silent Slytherin at her side and strode off. Snape regarded the headmaster for a while, his head cocked to the side. A strand of dark hair fell into his eyes. He didn't bother to swipe it away.

"Why do you want to keep me here? I'll only be in everybody's way, wandering to places that the teacher's are used to having for themselves during the holidays. And you will be gone half of the time."

The headmaster shuffled a few papers around on his desk.

"Frankly I always had the impression that you enjoyed the company of people older than you are and that you would spend every free minute in the library or the dungeons, if we only let you. Why would it be so terrible to stay here?"

The boy smiled.

"I asked you first."

The old wizard stopped his indistinct cleaning attempt and returned the smile, however with some effort.

"Mr. Snape, I believe you to have a gift, intellectually as well as magically, and I know there are many people out there who would only be to willing to exploit this gift. Here we could help you to grow in a free yet protected environment."

Snape looked thoughtful, considered his teacher's words for a moment and then nodded.

"I do enjoy the company of those senior to me", he now answered the headmaster's question, "but I believe this to be true, because I never had any other choice before I came to Hogwarts. Given the choice", he made an eloquent pause here, "I would prefer to spend my holidays with the people that I have come to know as friends over the last years."

Now it was the headmaster's turn to nod.

He is lying, Harry thought. Dumbledore is lying. The only reason he wanted to keep Snape at Hogwarts was to quench his own bad conscience.

There was a string of memories now that showed Snape in different locations, surrounded by different people. The only clearly visible red line was the constant presence of Lucius Malfoy and a very relaxed smile on the dark haired Slytherin's face. He even seemed to gain a little colour in the course of events.

Pictures of trips, in the wizarding as well as the muggle world, raced by, glimpses of assemblies in rather elegant yet somewhat murky surroundings, impressions of parties. Harry was sure he had caught a glimpse of a wedding ceremony and seen Narcissa Black in long white robes.

Things slowed down and finally came to a halt in a large library. House elves were scattering around, serving drinks and entrées. Elegantly dressed people lined the bookshelves like decorative statues, only they seemed to be engaged in intense discussions. Snape was sprawled in a comfortable looking armchair, pretending to read a book entitled "Defensive Spells - The Erroneous Condemnation of a Misapprehended Art" while actually scowling towards Lucius Malfoy and his obviously newly wedded wife Narcissa. They were leaning in a dusky corner, cooing silly pet names at each other and fiddling with the shiny golden rings on the fingers of their left hands.

The sound of heavy boots on the wooden panelled floor jerked everyone out of their various occupations. Seconds later an impressive figure entered the library and moved with sure strides over to Lord and Lady Malfoy who both bowed their heads to him.

Snape had put the book to the side, careful to mark the page he had been pretending to read, and joined the others in a part of the room overlooked by a large window. Just now the heavy green curtains were being drawn and people started to take their seats on richly cushioned and decorated chairs. There were not enough chairs for everyone, so the younger ones took their seemingly customary places in the back of the assembly.

Harry tried his best to focus on anything else in the room but the voice booming out of the bubble. This voice had haunted him in his dreams, shook him to the core and seemed to take hold of a part of his soul even now. Listening to the insane proclamations of pure-blooded superiority, muggle inferiority and a debt that needed to be repaid was bad enough as it was. The tantalizing voice only made it harder to ignore.

Hermione, sitting by his side lost in thought, a strand of hopelessly tangled hair around her right index finger, was staring at the scene open mouthed. A frown had crept between her slightly bushy eyebrows and obviously felt comfortable there.

The other members of the Order seemed to suffer from the same mix of revulsion and fascination, for no one except Harry appeared to be able to avert their eyes. Even Lupin looked captivated, muttering comments under his breath to Tonks who shook her head vigorously, yet without taking her eyes from the speaker.

When the address was over there was a lot of applause, coming the loudest from the back rows where Lucius Malfoy held court with his usual troop. Snape was leaning against one of the polished bookshelves, clapping his hands politely, yet without enthusiasm.

Gracefully Voldemort walked over to the group of young people and the crowd parted before him like an obedient sea. The bowed heads seemed to please him and an enigmatic smile spread across his somehow ageless face.

"Young Lord and Lady Malfoy, I see. Congratulations, both of you, and please accept my apology for not being able to attend the wedding. I was engaged elsewhere on important matters. I'm sure you understood."

"Of course we did, my Lord", Narcissa stuttered and blushed prettily. Lucius beamed at her.

"Lucius", Voldemort directed his attention on the young blond man. "Would you come and see me later in your father's office? I have some interesting developments to discuss with you."

Lucius flushed as fiercely as Narcissa had done only seconds before.

"It would be an honour, my Lord."

Voldemort smiled a satisfied little smile and moved to the back of the group.

"Severus, walk with me."

He didn't even see the look of shock and sudden panic on the teenager's face as he paced towards a door that led out into the vast garden. Snape gulped and started following him on unsteady legs while his friends patted him on the back encouragingly. He caught up with the older man near a patch of yellow roses shimmering in the afternoon sun. 

"Severus, where does your heart lie?"

Stunning blue eyes bore into deep dark ones, genuine interest shining from them.

"I … I'm not sure what you want to know, my Lord", Snape mumbled, hastily gazing away.

"What I mean, Severus," Voldemort continued while walking along the different patches of flowers, "is that I miss your passion during my speeches. When I reach out into the crowd I can feel their hearts rising up to me. I cannot feel yours."

Another curious glance met Snape's frightened face.

"Now, I know that I am a gifted speaker and am therefore sure that it's not my oratory performance that fails to light your fire. It has to be something else."

He stopped by a wrought-iron bench and invited the young wizard to sit with him. Carefully Snape placed himself at the opposite end of the bench, finally daring to look at the other man, yet still too confused to answer.

Voldemort sighed.

"Lord Malfoy told me about your family situation and I have taken the liberty to initiate some personal … investigations. I have had the pleasure of meeting your father and must say that I am rather impressed."

Panic raced across the young face as Snape tried to find an adequate response. He was spared from actually delivering it, however, for Voldemort continued:

"I am rather impressed with you for having survived this long at the mercy of a man as insane as your father. Don't get me wrong, Severus, he is definitely a genius, but he is also definitely mentally unstable."

He slid over to the younger man and rested a hand on his arm.

"Severus, your mother is dead. He killed her a couple of days after that old fool came to their house and meddled in affairs that were none of his business."

Snape stared into nothingness as tears clouded his vision. A huge sob seemed to rise inside his chest, but he didn't let it out. Voldemort didn't do or say anything for a while. His hand still rested on Snape's arm, calming down the trembling. When the dark-haired boy finally looked up at him, the older man's smile was gone. There was a determined look in his eyes as he asked:

"Do you want me to kill him for you? Or do you want me to teach you how to do it yourself?"


	21. Chapter 21: Through to the End

**Chapter**** 21: Through to the End**

There was another moment of apprehensive silence during which Snape seemed to do his best to make all the scattered pieces in his mind fit again. The result appeared to be confusing.

"I assume you are talking about my father?" he asked. His voice was quivering slightly, but apart from that he had a firm grip on his emotions.

"Well, let's assume that I am", Voldemort responded, still looking his opposite straight into the eyes. His voice was calm; however, a nervous twitch around the right eye betrayed him. The Dark Lord was waiting eagerly for an answer that would change the course of more than one life.

Snape plucked a dark velvety rose from a nearby bush and gazed at it silently. As he closed his hand around the tender stem the thorns pricked his skin. Tiny beads of blood trickled down his wrist and he followed their trail with his eyes.

"I'm not sure I can do this", he said in a low voice, hardly more than a whisper.

"That was not what I asked."

Voldemort was only inches away from him now. His blue eyes seemed to absorb the light around him only to flash it out again in calculated little doses.

"Do you _want_ to do it?"

Setting the flower aside carefully Snape raised his head and looked pensively across the garden and towards an enormous old oak tree. Then he nodded his head.

"I knew it! He is a murderer!"

How Ron had managed to produce a thunderous whisper Harry never found out. Nervously he scanned the assembled spectators in the hall before he turned around to face his friend who was practically shining with self-righteous indignation.

"Could you shout it out loud the next time? I'm not sure everybody heard you."

Hermione reached back and up to slap both of them absentmindedly.

"Shut up, both of you", she murmured. Harry seriously expected the strand of hair around her finger to disconnect from her scalp any minute now.

Dressed in dark robes Snape was walking down a dimly lit street. His face was as stern and set as when he wandered the Hogwarts corridors at night, merely lacking a couple of years and the visible signs of uncountable sorrows. Quietly he turned around another corner where six hooded figures, dressed in black like he was, were already waiting for him.

Lucius Malfoy slipped the dark hood off his long blond hair and looked at the newcomer expectantly.

"Ready?" he whispered. There was excitement in his voice.

Snape nodded, reached inside his cloak and pulled out a mask. Apart from Lucius the others had already hidden their faces. They all followed the young man out into the street. As Snape started to place his own mask over his face with an elegant and practiced move his blond friend grabbed his arm.

"I meant are _you_ ready?" he asked so quietly that none of the others heard him.

Snape shook off the other man's hand and completed the disguise.

"We will see", came the muffled reply.

Harry recognized the house they were walking up to from previous memories. A flickering light shone from one of the topmost windows, presumably from a fireplace. He wasn't sure he wanted to see this.

The seven figures moved silently across the street and into the garden, communicating with each others only by the use of signs and little gestures. Seemingly without any effort they climbed up towards the windows on the first floor. Wands were drawn, spells muttered and the windows swung open without so much as a creaking. Inside the house they moved swiftly up to the library where Snape's father was in his usual place in front of the fire, scribbling away frantically on a large roll of parchment. Books lay scattered all around him, covering the whole table and a good part of the floor.

He didn't notice the intruders until a shadow fell upon him. Instinctively reaching inside his robes for his wand he retreated from the table with one swift movement, confusion momentarily making his face more human than ever before. He was disarmed before he had a chance to even get a steady grip on his wand.

"Who are you? How did you get past the wards?"

His eyes flicked from one hooded face to the next, like an animal that knows it is hopelessly trapped. Nobody answered his questions as they drew the circle closer around him. Their cloaks didn't swish. Their boots didn't make any kind of noise. The absence of those well expected sounds was eerie.

Suddenly one of the figures lashed out, quick as lightning. A deep cut appeared on the old Snape's cheek and a bloodstained dagger shimmered shortly in the firelight. Then the others joined in to what could only be described as a ritual punishment. Methodically they lashed out to cut all visible areas of skin. Not a single one sliced through the layers of fine crimson silk.

In the beginning the old man would try to avoid the blades, trying to somehow keep up his arrogant and superior demeanour. After a couple of minutes, however, he crumpled to the floor, attempting in vain to protect his face from the assault. He never moaned or begged for mercy.

His face was a bloody mass when one of them finally raised a steady hand and made the others stop. A dagger dropped to the floor, while a gloved hand reached inside the dark cloak and produced from there a polished wand, about eleven inches long and reflecting the light of the merrily sparkling fire. After a moment of hesitation the wand owner reached up to his face, removed the mask and withdrew the hood. It was Snape.

A sneer spread across the older man's distorted face, squeezing out more blood in various places.

"Well, well, look what the cat dragged in", he chuckled quietly. After that his voice dropped to an icy whisper.

"I thought I had made it perfectly clear that I didn't want you anywhere near this house again, let alone in it. You are living proof of my fallibility and should have been eliminated long ago. But perhaps I should have used clearer language. My refined phrasing was probably too much for your poor mind to comprehend."

The flicker of a smile crossed over his son's face. His wand arm relaxed and he lowered it slowly, still regarding his father, who was kneeling on the floor in front of him.

"Let's leave", he announced in a steady voice. "He is not worth the trouble."

Hesitantly the other stowed away their blades and turned towards the door. They seemed to be hungry for a kill and disappointed at the idea of leaving unsatisfied.

"You never see anything through to the end, don't you, Severus?" his father cried after him.

"You are weak-minded, gutless and pathetic. That's why she stayed with me. That's why she didn't want you."

Snape spun around, his eyes ablaze with fury, his wand pointing directly onto his father's chest.

"_Avada__ Kedavra!_" 

There was a proud smile on the old Snape's face as his body crashed to the floor, green flames licking lightly at his fingertips before they, too, died away.

Snape replaced his mask with shaking hands, drew up his hood and walked steadily down the stairway, through the hall and out the front door. The others followed him quietly and in respectful distance.

Harry couldn't decide if he felt appalled or satisfied. Judging by the look on Arthur Weasley's face he was not alone with that dilemma.

Lucius Malfoy didn't speak a word to his friend until they were back at Malfoy Manor again. Once inside the door he threw off the cloak and stared at Snape intently for a moment.

"I will inform him", was all he said before he disappeared through a door at the far end of the hall.

Snape walked slowly up towards his room, closed the door behind him, folded up the dark robes carefully and cleaned the small dagger. Then he placed his wand gently on his nightstand, went into the bathroom and started throwing up violently.


	22. Chapter 22: Family Tradition

**A/N**: First of all – this is not a nice chapter. But you know me by now, so that won't really surprise you. Second, there will be another break in my postings after this one, because I will be without computer or internet connection until Sunday. Apart from that I am grateful so many of you waited for me for so long. I hadn't planned to let the story linger this long, but sometimes life just overtakes you on the right and screws your plans. Right now I am pretty much the master of my own time, but that might change again soon enough. I'll try to post at least once a week, though.

So many of you read and reviewed, there would be so much to answer.

There will be a few more memories before the bubble bursts, but not more than three chapters I guess. I already know how I intend to describe the confrontation between Snape and Dumbledore, so I will inevitably disappoint some of you. Hopefully you will stick with me and the story until the end anyway.

And yes, I know I messed up with the Shrieking Shack incident. In my notes I had just written down "3" and later wrongly assumed that I meant the 3rd year, when I'd actually meant the 3rd book. Sorry for that.

**Chapter 22: Family Tradition**

Moody wore a triumphant smile on his malformed face. 

"So, I was right from the beginning. There was no incantation gone wrong and there surely were no trolls in pursuit of a promise not kept. I knew it was him. I knew it!"

Both his eyes were fixed on the panting Potions Master and his voice had a slightly mad ring as he kept repeating the last words over and over again, cackling hysterically every now and then.

The others watched him with anxiety, but only Tonks was brave enough to shush him.

More memories flashed by: lessons, examinations, quarrel with the marauders, trips to Muggle-London, meetings at Malfoy Manor. Lucius Malfoy was pacing nervously from the residence's entrance door into the library and back again. Ever so often he would approach Snape, who was sitting in a cushioned armchair by the window, gazing outside into the garden. There was a worried frown on the young Lord's face and he seemed to be in need of some encouraging words, yet every time his friend was about to open his mouth Lucius turned on his heals and stormed back into the hallway.

"Lucius, dear, you can come up now."

Lady Malfoy's voice was deep and soft, as usual. Her looks, however, were a little dishevelled; single strands of hair had come undone from the skilfully braided crown of blond hair and there were dark rings under her usually shiny blue-grey eyes. Her son flashed a broad smile towards Snape before he stormed up the stairs, hastily kissing his mother on the cheek, and disappeared along the corridor.

"Is Narcissa all right?"

Snape had come to meet the Lady at the end of the stairs. Attentively he offered his arm and led her into the drawing room where she lowered herself gracefully onto one of the many couches.

"Yes, Narcissa is well, Severus. She had a rough night, but that was to be expected. Members of our family are of a considerably stronger build than hers; we knew she would suffer. She is strong. She will recover."

Absentmindedly she started massaging the obviously tense muscles in her neck, accepting a class of some amber coloured liquid Snape was offering to her.

Just then Lucius came storming back down the stairs. He skidded to halt in the doorframe and gestured excitedly towards his friend.

"Severus, come on up and look at her. She is gorgeous, the most beautiful thing you have ever seen. Narcissa and I want to ask you something."

With that he disappeared again, taking three steps at a time, his blonde mane waving out behind him. Severus smiled at Lady Malfoy, bowed his head slightly and made for the door.

"Don't get to attached to that child", she said, swivelling her drink around in the glass. The look she gave him was full of exhaustion and disappointment.

"She won't last."

Snape turned and was about to ask a question in return when Lucius' voice called him from upstairs.

"Come on, Uncle Severus. Your godchild is getting impatient!"

"Uncle Severus?" Ron snickered.

"Did you know Malfoy had a sister?" Ginny whispered into Hermione's ear.

Hermione shook her head, tickling Ginny's nose with her curls in the process.

"No, I always thought he was an only child. He never mentioned any sisters or brothers and usually he talks about everything his family 'owns', if you are interested or not."

"That's not a good sign then", Ginny murmured.

Harry had to agree.

Snape was pushing a little girl on a swing. Her dark curls bounced up as she descended and brushed her cheeks as she swung up again. She had startlingly blue eyes and long dark lashes. Every time he gave her a push she would squeal with delight, stretching her little legs out as far as possible to gain more momentum. A smile was playing around the young man's lips and he looked completely relaxed. He had to be in his early twenties now, while the girl couldn't be older than four.

"Aurora, it's time to come in."

Lady Malfoy seemed not to have aged at all apart from the few strands of hair that appeared to shimmer rather white than blond in the evening sun.

Gently Snape lifted the girl off the wooden swing and put her under his left arm like a bundle of books.

"Where would you like the parcel to be placed?" he asked the Lady, doing his best to ignore the little girl's giggles and her vain attempts to tickle him. The smile that answered him was strained and thin. 

"In the bedroom, please, Severus. Dobby will help her to get ready for the night. And Lucius is waiting for you in the study. The Master will come by later and there are still some pressing matters to be discussed."

Snape frowned slightly, yet he tried not to let his godchild notice. Playfully he swung her around his shoulder and started up the stairs and towards her bedroom, which was on the first floor. Inside he let her plop down on a four-poster with yellow curtains. There were toys scattered everywhere and a long row of teddy bears rested against a pillow. She scrambled towards them and started placing all of them on her lap.

"Rome, Paris, Berlin, Prague, London, Warsaw, Edinburgh, …" she declared gleefully, pronouncing each name carefully and looking at Snape for approval.

He smiled, reached inside his robe and pulled out another bear with white fluffy fur and a big black hat.

"And Moscow", he said, setting the toy before her on the blanket.

"I knew you didn't forget." 

She beamed up at him proudly while clutching the newest member of her collection to her breast. Snape called for the house elf, kissed the little girl on the forehead and went down into the study. Lucius was already waiting for him. He looked tired, yet there was an aura of authority around him. His face had hardened and his eyes had lost some of their warmth, but when Snape entered the room they shone brightly again like they had done in the former memories.

"Severus", he reached out a welcoming hand and touched the other man's shoulder firmly for a moment.

"It's good to have you back here. The Master is very pleased with your studies and the research you have done with Torelli, Minardot, Scott and the others."

"I was grateful for the opportunity to work with the best", Snape replied. "To be completely honest, I really enjoyed myself and sometimes even forgot the cause for all the studies."

Lucius smile flickered.

"Don't mention that to him, Severus. Don't ever mention that to him. You've had too many discussions with him already and things have changed since you last attended a meeting. He is not used to his decisions being questioned anymore. He has practically doubled our numbers since your last stop in England and people are starting to recognise him."

"Well, that's good news", Snape replied as he poured himself a drink.

"He should be pleased by that, shouldn't he?"

Lucius looked at him intently.

"People are starting to recognise him as a threat to the current status. Some have already called him a peril to the wizard society, Albus Dumbledore being one of them."

He lowered his voice to a dramatic whisper.

"It's starting, Severus. The time of the revolution has come. There will be war."

Snape looked stunned for a moment. The drink rested in his hand and he tried to concentrate on the shimmering liquid.

"Is that why he is coming over tonight?" he finally asked. "To talk about battle plans?"

The last words had had a touch of disbelief and Lucius flashed him an encouraging smile.

"I hope so, Severus. It's time, you know. We have been holding still for too long now. Do you want Aurora to grow up in a world where she will not be allowed to fly whichever way she wants, because those Muggles might see her? Where she will have to restrict her exploration of the world to sections declared safe for wizards, lest she might disturb the Muggles with her magic? Do you want her to run into borders set by the Ministry and outdated tradition whenever she wants to broaden her horizon?"

There was a fanatic glint in Lucius' eyes and Snape seemed to be mesmerized by them for a moment. Then suddenly there was the sound of clapping hands from the door. Smiling enigmatically Voldemort walked towards the two men.

"Bravo, Lucius! I couldn't have put it better myself. But then, you practically copied one of my last speeches."

Malfoy had obviously outgrown the habit of blushing and simply bowed his head. Snape had sunk down on one knee, waiting for permission to get up or at least raise his head. He didn't have to wait long.

"Severus, my son, get up! It's good to see you. Doctor Karkaroff talked about you in a most flattering tone. I am curious to see the results you have brought with you."

"Thank you, my Lord", Snape answered, his voice shaking slightly. He took an instinctive step backwards, leaving Lucius to face their Master directly. Voldemort's smile disappeared.

"As much as I appreciate your speech, Lucius, I'm not here for politics this time. Your mother asked me over to help you and Narcissa with a decision."

Snape threw a curious glance from one man to the other. Lucius' face had gone a pasty shade of white and he gripped his hands reflexively. From the next room they heard a muffled sob. Narcissa was leaning against the doorframe, her hair a mess, her eyes red from crying. Behind her Lady Malfoy bowed her head to Voldemort.

"What's going on?" Snape asked his friend quietly, his eyes racing from Lucius to Narcissa.

Lucius swallowed.

"Mother had a screener come over a couple of days ago."

"What's a screener?" Harry asked Hermione. If the expression was mentioned in any book in the Hogwarts library, she was sure to know it. She didn't disappoint him.

"Screeners can instinctively feel someone's magical potential. People used to call them in older days, when the child with the strongest magic used to inherit everything, to name the heir. But I thought there was no demand for that anymore."

Harry liked the look of this less and less.

"A screener?" Snape asked confused. "What for?"

Lady Malfoy walked into the room, dragging the still sobbing Narcissa with her.

"To me it was clear already when she was born that Aurora was a Squib", she explained coolly, ignoring her son's sharp intake of breath and Narcissa's heartbreaking sobs. 

"I saw the signs, just like I saw them with Julian."

She paused for a moment, lost in some seemingly unpleasant memory. As she continued her voice was stern and cold.

"I told all of you not to get too attached to that child and now a decision has to be made. The screener confirmed what I already told you. Your daughter does not have the slightest hint of magic inside her. "

Narcissa clung to Lucius like someone drowning in deep sea while he stood rooted to the spot, blinking tears away and trying to keep his composure. Voldemort rested his eyes on the desperate couple.

"You have more than one choice in this matter, but your daughter has only one. Remember your little speech, Lucius. Do you want her to grow up in a world where everyone knows how to use magic, only she doesn't? Do you want to let her grow up only to realise that she doesn't belong? She is a clever girl. It won't take her much longer to find out that she is lacking something that all the other members of her family have and then she will be desperate."

Narcissa had somehow managed to suppress her crying and looked up at him with big scared eyes, imploring him not to say what she couldn't bear to hear.

"You could send her away to live in a Muggle family", he continued without mercy. "Or you could just kill her now. The result is inevitably going to be the same. She is doomed."

Severus shook his head in disbelief.

"Maybe the seeker was wrong. She is so talented in every other way, maybe her magic is just a little slow. She is only four!"

Desperately he looked from Voldemort to Lady Malfoy. Both answered him with icy silence.

"We could at least wait for the letter", Narcissa whispered.

"That would only mean to postpone the inevitable truth for six years. Six years in which you will tie her to your hearts even more. Waiting is no solution, it will only increase the amount of pain and fear, both for you and her. You should get this over with so that you can move on. She will not be your only child."

While saying those last words she rested a hand on Narcissa golden head. The younger woman recoiled from her, seeking solitude in the arms of her husband.

"They are right, darling", he whispered into her ear. His eyes were wet, but he didn't cry.

"Severus, would you brew us a potion that …"

He never got to finish the sentence, for Snape had thrown his glass against the wall in a sudden outburst of fury.

"No!" he yelled at the top of his voice. "Lucius, are you insane? She is your child, your only child! You don't have to do this."

Voldemort stepped between him and the couple and raised a warning finger.

"This is none of your business, Severus", he hissed. "Either help us in brewing the Draught or keep out of this. You are only making it harder for them."

With seemingly great effort Snape lowered his eyes.

"Lucius", he whispered "remember how we both mourned, you for Julian, me for Susanna. Don't do this now."

Wordlessly Lucius rested the crying Narcissa against his friend and walked towards the stairs, flanked on either side by Voldemort and his mother. Snape stared after him in disbelief.

"Don't worry, she will not feel a thing", Voldemort told Lucius in a soft voice as they took the first step.

Snape released the woman in his arms, ignoring the fact that she tumbled to the floor like a puppet whose strings had been cut, and raced after them. His face had a determined look as he reached for his wand. Voldemort was faster.

"_Crucio_!"

The spell hit him like a bullet and he crashed against the nearest wall, slumping down onto the floor helplessly as the pain raced through his body.

"You have to learn where your place is, Severus. And I think you also have to learn again that you don't disobey your master. We will talk about this later."

Without releasing the spell Voldemort continued to walk up the stairs, Lady Malfoy in his wake. Lucius stood undecided for a moment, obviously torn between the desire to help his friend and the perverted sense of duty that demanded him to kill his only child. In the end duty overcame desire and he followed the other two into Aurora's bedroom.


	23. Chapter 23: The long way home

**A/N:** Sorry for the long delay and the fact that this chapter is a little shorter than usual. Believe me, that is not what I had planned. However, I thought it would be better to update at least a little bit instead of letting you hang in thin air much longer.

Please, be patient with me. It's not that much longer until the bubble bursts. 

And could please someone tell me where I can find a time turner? *sigh*

**Chapter 23: The long way home**

Harry felt numb. This was just too much for anyone to take and definitely more than he had ever wanted to see. This had to end. Now. It just wasn't right.

He remembered what it was like to be under _Legillimens_, the feeling of being thrown back in time and into a situation of which you knew the outcome - without any chance to interfere. You were not a spectator. It was nothing like watching a memory in a Pensieve. You were actually _there_ again, feeling what you felt at the time, thinking what you thought, dreading, hoping and wishing for the same things.

What was taking place here was torture and he couldn't just stand by and let it happen, not anymore.

Before the others could stop him he had slipped out from under the invisibility cloak and stepped down into the hallway. Behind him he heard Hermione whispering frantically:

"Are you crazy? Come back under the cloak before they see you! Do you want to …?"

Her voice was drowned out into muffled noises as obviously one of the two hidden Weasleys covered her mouth with a firm hand or another adequate tool.

Mrs. Weasley was the first to spot him.

"Harry!"

Her hand flew to her mouth and her eyes opened wide in shock. The others turned their heads or swivelled around to stare at him disbelievingly. Inside the bubble Snape was facing an extremely angry Voldemort.

"Stop this", Harry demanded. His voice was shaking as was the hand with which he pointed towards the images flashing in the air between Dumbledore and the Potions Master.

"Please, make it stop."

His eyes flew from Mr. Weasley to Lupin. He hated the pleading tone of his own voice, hated himself for not being able to do anything more but appealing to the others' sense of compassion. 

"How can you watch this?"

Lupin stared at him, apparently unable to speak. Tonks busied herself with wiping tears from her face, doing her best to avoid his eyes. Mrs. Weasley started several sentences but never got any further than "We …, you see …."  

Mr. Weasley finally drew himself up, walked over to Harry and rested a hand on his shoulder, blocking the bubble from the boy's view.

"Knowing you I assume you have been watching for quite a while. Then you must have heard what I said before: We can't risk interfering. We don't know what it will do to either of them."

"That's not what you said", Harry snapped, taking a step to the side, consequently avoiding Mr. Weasley's hand and facing the rest of the assembly again.

"You said you weren't sure what was going to happen. You said it _might_ be risky. But how can this NOT be dangerous? How can this NOT be painful?"

He was shouting now and he heard the blood rushing in his own ears. The others flinched – all apart from Dumbledore and Snape who seemed totally unaware of anything that was going on outside the bubble.

"Harry, there is nothing we can do to stop this", Mr. Weasley repeated, this time careful not to touch the enraged teenager. His voice was calm and soothing.

"Believe me, none of us feels comfortable. We _know_ that it's wrong. But we are here and this is the situation."

Behind them, inside the bubble, masked and hooded shadows swarmed out, slithering through dark and deserted streets, laying fire, shooting blinding flashes of lightning at fleeing figures. Cries and whimpers were answered by the sound of cruel laughter. One of the shadows was bent double and retched.

Harry blinked tears away, tears of rage as well as disappointment.

"But why are you_ watching_?"

His voice seemed small and insignificant even to himself.

"Well, it would be a crying shame not to make some good out of this situation", Moody declared with a hint of bewilderment. He was about to make another, probably equally inappropriate remark when Bill Weasley silenced him with an icy look. The eldest of the Weasley children stared at Harry pointedly and asked:

"And why are you watching?"

_I'm not_, Harry wanted to shout. _I'm standing here, trying to make you stop this madness_.

However, he found his eyes darting towards the bubble again and with a sharp pang of guilt he realized that he wasn't any better than the rest of them. Just a little more naïve. And maybe a little more self-righteous. 

With staggering steps Severus Snape was moving towards the entrance door of the castle that held Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. His dark robes were dirty and torn and stood in sharp contrast to his pale face. The black eyes were bloodshot and seemed to have trouble focussing. He was clearly way past drunk.

Upon reaching the huge oaken door he raised an unsteady fist and started hammering against the painted wood rhythmically. His forehead rested against the door, vibrating slightly with every thundering thud. When the door was opened a couple of minutes later he nearly crushed into the entrance hall, instead falling into the unprepared arms of an extremely surprised Argus Filch.

Mumbling half-hearted obscenities and slapping the young man's face roughly with one hand the caretaker managed to bring some sense back into Snape. Carefully the wizard drew himself up, doing his best to look dignified while swaying on the spot, and declared in a low and steady voice:

"I have come to see the Headmaster."

Albus Dumbledore looked slightly dishevelled. He wore nightgowns of blue wool, enchanted to show bouncing sheep that raced each other along the seams. An equally coloured and decorated nightcap rested askew on a wild mane of white hair. He took off his spectacles to rub his eyes and then gazed thoughtfully at the younger man in front of him.

Snape and the headmaster were facing each other beside the fireplace in Dumbledore's office. They were both sitting in huge armchairs and each of them held in his hand a steaming mug. Dumbledore took careful sips from his own while Snape kept staring at the warm liquid. There were dark rings under his eyes and his hands were scratched and bruised.

"I should never have let you stay with them."

Dumbledore's voice was full of regret and a tinge of self-loathing. Snape sighed, but didn't respond.

"I should have insisted on you staying here, with us. With me."

The younger man's eyes finally met his.

"It was not like that in the beginning. I felt safe there. I felt home."

Long fingers turned the mug round and round.

"I really can't remember when it all went out of control. All those travels, all those places and people …. " 

He stared blankly into the fire.

"When I came back everything had changed. They were talking about war, not revolution anymore. They spoke of revenge instead of justice…"

His voice trailed off. Suddenly he started tugging at his left sleeve frantically, not bothering to open the buttons. With a sharp little sound the cloth ripped and revealed a glistening black mark on the pale skin, framed and covered by angry red cuts where someone obviously had tried to scratch the ugly tattoo off. Snape's voice was calm when he spoke again; his eyes, however betrayed him.

"There is no way back now. And I … I don't even know why I came here."

Dumbledore didn't move. His eyes searched the younger man's face thoroughly and he hummed a quiet and soothing little melody under his breath. 

"I should go", Snape murmured and raised himself on unsteady legs.

The headmaster cocked his head and looked up at him.

"And where will you go to?"

The younger man sighed and his shoulders slumped down ever so slightly.

"Back, I guess. It's not like there is anywhere else I could go."

In a flutter of feathers and colour Fawkes came soaring into the room, showering the scene with tiny sparks of lightning. With a contented screech the bird landed on Snape's shoulder.

Dumbledore looked at the two of them and smiled.

"Home is a place where you are always welcome, Severus. No matter when you come. Or from where. Or how long it has been since your last visit. Come home, boy."

Tears were welling up in the younger wizard's eyes and a shudder ran through his thin body, causing the phoenix to adjust its weight slightly.

"You don't just leave the service of the Dark Lord", he managed to press out through clenched teeth. He was visibly fighting not to let his desperation take over.

"Once you have sworn to be loyal to him there is no other way but to obey. If the alternative was death, I might be willing to consider it."

Here Dumbledore's frown deepened and he looked at Snape sharply. He didn't interrupt, however, and Snape was too concentrated on not losing his composure to notice.

"I have seen those who tried to leave him. I have seen what he did to their families, to their friends, before he turned on them. I do not have the right to endanger the only people who ever cared for me."

Finally his voice broke. Tears were rolling down his cheeks and he didn't bother to wipe them away. Gently he placed the bird on its customary bar beside the chaotic desk and turned to face the headmaster again. To his surprise the older man was standing right behind him, wearing a serious expression on his normally so gentle face.

"Help me to fight him, Severus."

The blue eyes sparkled in the dimly lit room and seemed to mesmerize Snape.

"Help me to turn him into nothing more than a faint memory. He is the evil that poisons our world, that poisons even young and brilliant minds like your own. He turns people into monsters and passion into bigotry."

Dumbledore was radiating an inner fire that seemed to burn the young man's face. His voice pierced ear and heart alike and left the listener defenceless and numbed.

"Severus, you do have a choice. I give you a choice."

In the fireplace a large piece of wood burst into flame, filling the room with a crackling sound a fresh wave of heat.


	24. Chapter 24: But a fool

**Chapter**** 24: But a fool**

"Where are the others?"

Mr Weasley's whispered question made Harry flinch. He was momentarily confused, torn between the scene on the Hogwarts grounds and the reality at Grimmauld Place. With some effort he drew his gaze away from the bubble and looked into Arthur Weasley's eyes.

"Hmm?"

"The others."

"I … I don't know", Harry lied. "Probably still upstairs, trying to catch some words. They didn't think it wise to come down here."

That answer seemed to satisfy the man who had acted as an uncle to Harry over the last years. The thought that his children had neither the nerve not the guts to act against his explicit orders seemed to be reassuring to him.

"Listen, Harry", he went on in a low voice, "I know how you feel and I know it's a ghastly thing to do. But we really have no means to stop this. I mean, Albus Dumbledore cast the spell and I don't think anyone in this room is capable of matching up to his powers."

Gingerly he rested a hand on Harry's shoulder.

"The only thing we can do now is watch and wait – and maybe alter our perspective on the grounds of what we learn."

That didn't feel at all reassuring. In his mind Harry started searching for a possibility to break that spell. He wished he had paid more attention to Snape's lessons. He wished he had studied more in general. He also wished that Hermione was a little bit closer to him right now.

A door was flung open violently and in stormed two hooded figures. Narcissa Malfoy staggered down the stairway, her hair tousled, her nightgown in disarray. Her body was rounded slightly, showing signs of her being with child once more. She had reached the entrance hall in time to see her husband fling his mask to the side with violence.

"Damn! That should not have happened!" he yelled.

Behind him the other man closed the door quietly before taking off his own mask. Carefully Snape placed it on a small table and turned towards the young pregnant woman.

"I'm sorry, Narcissa. Our entrance was perhaps a little over-dramatic. Just go back to bed, we will tell you everything in the morning."

His words had sounded kind, his eyes, however, showed signs of anger as a flashed an angry look towards Lucius. The young Lord had stormed on into the parlour and was just pouring himself a large drink.

"How could they escape, Severus?" he yelled through the open door at his companion.

"Five of them! How could that happen?"

Narcissa touched the dark haired man shortly on the arm before joining her husband in the adjacent room. Taking a deep breath Snape followed her.

"Has the Muggle-hunt gone wrong, dear?" the young Lady Malfoy asked while stifling a yawn. One hand on her tightening belly she gently lowered herself onto a couch near the fireplace. A swift swish of her wand set the logs aflame.

Lucius was pacing up and down in front of the window now.

"This had nothing to do with Muggle-hunting", he spit out through gritted teeth.

"This was much more important. We needed to get rid of these Ministry people, quietly and yet finally. How else are we going to get our own people in? How else are we going to gain enough power to do away with the Ministry all together?"

He stopped his pacing in front of Snape.

"Five, Severus! Even one would have been too much, but with five of them on the loose there is no chance this will go unnoticed. They will warn the others."

Sighing heavily he sank down beside his wife.

"Until now no one has been able to track us down. Nobody who saw us lived to tell the tale. This is serious, eagle nose."

Snape walked carefully across the room and sat down on a small bench in front of the fire.

"So, what do we do now?" he asked quietly.

"Do we pack the whole plan up and run for cover? Do we lay low and hope they won't find us? What, Lucius?" 

The voice that answered him did not belong to Lucius Malfoy.

"We will do nothing of the sort, my dear Severus."

Snape jumped up and twirled around to find Lord Voldemort staring at him from the doorframe that led to the entrance hall. After a moment's hesitation he sank down on one knee, trembling slightly.

"Master", he muttered.

Lucius had dropped onto his knees as well, pulling the slightly unwilling Narcissa with him. She kept her balance with difficulty and placed one arm protectively across her belly.

"Tonight's failure", Voldemort put an irate stress on the last word, "is most unfortunate, yet by no means fatal. We will simply have to alter our strategy."

Casually he gestured at Narcissa to get up from the floor and sit down again on the couch. One hand grabbed Lucius' chin and raised the blond man's face towards him.

"If we can't do it subtly, we will do it spectacularly. From now on the most powerful wizards will be our prime targets. We will attack one at a time with our full force instead of getting drawn into little battles all over the place. And once we have eliminated foes like Albus Dumbledore, who is going to stop us?"

Snape stirred uncomfortably and tried to get a better look at Voldemort's face, but his own hair kept blocking his view. 

"What about the prophecy, my Lord?" Lucius whispered. His body was shaking slightly, though there was no way to know if this was due to thrill, fear or revulsion. When Voldemort released his grip on him he kept looking up at his master. The Dark Lord smiled.

"Don't worry about the prophecy, Lucius. I am very close to a solution for this hitch and once I have worked out the details I will ask you for whatever help you will be able to provide."

Finally the blond young man lowered his gaze and Voldemort strode lazily over to the fireplace where Snape was kneeling. He sat down on the bench the young man had occupied moments earlier, thereby positioning himself behind his servant's back.

"And now, Severus, tell me: How could those five witches and wizards escape? From what I have heard they were almost all on the side of the building you were guarding?"

There was no anger or threat in the voice, still the dark haired young man trembled a little.

"Forgive me, my Lord. I don't know how it could happen. Nobody got past me and I didn't see them flee. They must have found another way."

With a quick movement Voldemort grabbed a handful of Snape's black hair and pulled his head back painfully. Still sitting on the low bench he brought the young man' face close to his own, forcing his servant's spine to bend and twist in a most uncomfortable way.

"And I assume I just have to believe you, don't I?"

Still the voice was calm and even, almost casual, like he was talking about nothing more important than the latest Quidditch results or an article in the Wizarding Gazette. 

"Whichever way my Lord wishes to pursue to verify my words is surely the right one", Snape managed to say even though his current position apparently didn't leave him with a lot of breath.

"Good boy", Voldemort said softly.

A wand appeared in his hand as if from nowhere and he whispered "_Legillimens_". Snape tensed up, drawing a sharp breath. It only lasted a couple of seconds. Voldemort nodded and released the strand of black hair, patting the shaken Snape patronizingly on the shoulder.

"I appreciate your trust and devotion, Severus. I will find out who messed up this operation and then you will have the honour and the pleasure of joining me in his punishment."

"Thank you, my Lord", Snape whispered, his eyes fixed on the carpet under his knees.

And once more Snape was staring down, at his feet, at a slightly worn rug. A fire crackled once more in the background and a voice asked. "Is that all?"

Snape nodded and looked up at Dumbledore who was standing beside his desk, stroking Fawkes' feathers and munching on something that might have been a sherbet lemon.

"So, I am a _prime target_", he chuckled.

Snape frowned.

"This is not funny, Albus. It has been pretty bad so far and it will get a lot worse very soon. Too many things are happening at the same time and I am not involved in all of them. I will do my best, but there will be so many things that I don't know."

He sounded frustrated and threw the headmaster an angry look. Dumbledore smiled his benevolent smile and rested his back against the tabletop.

"Nobody expects you to know everything, Severus. You deliver invaluable information as it is. And you saved the life of people that are very dear to me."

The smile disappeared and the twinkling in the shiny blue eyes intensified.

"Don't think I don't know about the risks you are taking. Almost I feel grateful for your early Occlumency lessons, otherwise there would be no way for you to get through this alive. However, I still think it would be safer if you tried _not_ to get involved any further in this. You could get enough information just by staying at Malfoy Manor and …"

Snape practically jumped out of his chair and faced the older wizard, fire in his eyes.

"No! Lucius must never know. Whatever information I get and give to you, it must not be traced back to him or Narcissa. We agreed on that. Albus, you promised me that!"

Dumbledore sighed quietly as he took a careful step towards the younger man, guiding him back to his chair with a gentle hand.

"I promised that and I will keep my promise. But you cannot save him, Severus. Once the end comes you will be on different sides and only one of you will be on the winning team. Don't be fooled into believing that his connection with Voldemort has gone unnoticed. Many people suspect him. And you, by the way."

If this last statement had been meant to provoke a shocked reaction, it was unsuccessful. Snape merely smiled dryly.

"It has been a while since I felt anything else but a fool, Albus."

Harry quietly etched his way back towards the staircase. Mr. Weasley had rejoined his wife at the other end of the room and was staring into the bubble with a fascination that was shared by everyone present in the room – except Harry.

When he had the feeling that he was close enough for the others to hear him he whispered over his shoulder:

"There should be books in Sirius' room still, also some on Dark Arts. Try to find something to break that spell."

He heard muffled voices as the others seemingly discussed who would have to miss out on what was happening and check on those books. To Harry it was pretty obvious who would lose that fight and after less than a minute, as expected, Hermione crawled out from under the cloak, threw him a nasty look and tiptoed carefully up the stairs and out of sight. Harry dared to draw a very relieved breath.

"Why didn't you tell me?"

Snape was fuming with anger. His fists were clenched into Lucius' cloak as he held his friend pressed against a wall in what seemed to be a library. The blond man didn't do anything to defend himself and merely faced the other one with eyes that seemed to regain a little of their old warmth.

"That was not the way it was planned. It got out of hand. You know Bellatrix …"

"_Out of hand_?" Snape yelled. "She was … they were tortured into insanity, Lucius! And for what? They didn't know anything of value to us."

Lucius sighed.

"I knew that you and she were … something … of an item in school. That's why I didn't say anything. Severus, they both are … _were _close to Dumbledore. It's him we are trying to get. Sacrifices have to be made for the higher purpose; you know that as well as me."

For a moment it looked like Snape was going to hit Lucius. His hands released the other man's garment and clenched into fists that trembled dangerously. Lucius still didn't try to get away or protect himself.

"I tried to stop her, but I was too late. I'm sorry, Severus."

Finally Snape's hands sank down and rested at his side limply. For a moment he looked as though he was going to cry. Lucius pulled his friend into a tight hug and whispered into his ear:

"I made sure that they were found as soon as possible. She will live."

With that he released the other man and walked past him. In the doorframe he stopped once more and said quietly, without turning around:

"I am truly sorry, Severus."

Somewhere outside a baby cried and a female voice started singing a soothing lullaby.


	25. Chapter 25: Questions and Answers

**Chapter 25: Questions and Answers**

Harry was eying the stairs to the upper floor nervously. Where was Hermione? There couldn't be that many books on Dark Arts, could there? But then again, the Black family had been powerful Dark Wizards. Maybe there was more research material than he had thought.

"The questions are starting, Severus."

Albus Dumbledore gave the dark haired young man by his side a piercing look.

"I will have to tell them about the part you played in all this. Unless you prefer …"

His voice trailed off, giving his companion the chance to utter his preferences. Snape smiled bitterly, avoiding Dumbledore's eyes. Instead he let his gaze wonder over the wide green plain that lay before them. Both men were sitting on the top bars of a long wooden fence that seemed to separate two pieces of farmland. In the distance a lark was entertaining a herd of sheep with an obviously fascinating story – the four-legged creatures showed no interest at all in the green grass around them but stared up at the tree and the bird stupidly.

"Unless I prefer to go into Azkaban", Snape finally finished the other man's sentence.

"I can't really say that I do, Albus, so your … interference would be highly appreciated."

Dumbledore nodded.

"Then _everybody_ will know you have been spying on Voldemort for me."

It seemed like stating the obvious and Snape allowed himself to show the older wizard an amused smile.

"Do you think they didn't know?"

There was a slight hint of amusement also in his voice.

"Do you think I could have hidden something that big from him? Of course he knew about my connection to you. He very much appreciated my taking that enormous risk of getting close to the famous Albus Dumbledore. And he was proud that he had trained me well enough to fool you, to lure you into believing and trusting me."

Sparkling blue eyes met fathomless black ones. The blue eyes broke away first.

"You must have improved your talent in Occlumency further than I thought."

Dumbledore's voice was casual and he played with the hem of his robe. Snape kept looking at him intently.

"Are you asking me, if I was always able to keep the truth from him? Or are you asking me if I kept the truth from you?"

With an amount of vigour surprising for a man his age the headmaster jumped off the fence. He dusted imaginary dirt from his robes, then turned around and looked the younger man straight in the eye.

"No, Severus. I am asking _myself_ how I could not have seen this. And I am wondering how you managed to keep both your masters satisfied."

The dark eyes didn't blink.

"I had good teachers."

The silence between them grew heavier with every passing second. This time Snape gave in first. Sighing he looked away from the older man and climbed off the fence himself. With slow and somewhat hesitant steps he joined Dumbledore and together they started walking across the green.

"I never lied to you, Albus", Snape continued as they walked side by side. "I just didn't always tell you everything. You understand that I couldn't always inform you about every mission, every planned attack, don't you? I mean, sooner or later it would have been obvious that every operation discussed in my presence would have been bound to fail. In some cases I interfered myself. Others I just had to let happen. And many more I never heard about until they had been executed."

Suddenly he stopped, grasping the headmaster's arm and forcing the other man to face him.

"I didn't know about James and Lily Potter. He never mentioned them to me with a single word."

Dumbledore stared at him with wet eyes.

"And neither did Lucius Malfoy?"

Snape shook his head slowly, carefully.

"No, never."

"But he knew about it."

Snape's eyes flickered for a second and he appeared to fight the urge to blink or to look away. He seemed unable to answer that question while facing the sad blue eyes. Only when he lowered his gaze he whispered:

"He never said anything to me, Albus. He usually doesn't keep secrets from me and he never said anything."

Albus Dumbledore looked at his former student, seemingly weighing his words. Then he continued to walk. After taking a deep breath Snape followed.

Harry felt a tickling sensation on his cheeks. Irritably he raised a hand and brushed it across his face. To his own surprise he found himself crying.

There was no fire blazing in the headmaster's office and a window high up was opened wide, yet there were tiny beads of sweat dripping from Snape's temples. Mad Eye Moody, looking disturbingly mundane without his magical eye, had obviously paced the younger man into a corner and continued to walk up to him, stopping short just before he would have been able to touch him, glare at him and then limp away again.

"You should have told me before, Dumbledore", he growled.

"If I had known that _he_ was your mole, I would have checked the delivered information more carefully."

"And wasted time that we didn't have on the grounds of a tenuous inkling."

Dumbledore, sitting behind his desk and squinting at both men through half-moon spectacles, looked tired and fatigued. With an impatient gesture he swept a Honeyduke's bag off the table and grabbed the quill that had been hidden underneath. It took him another moment to locate an unspoiled piece of parchment, then he started scribbling a hasty note, rolled it up and waved at the brooding screech owl that had rested beside Fawkes on a windowsill. Obediently the smaller bird fluttered over and held out its leg, waited patiently until the old man had attached the message with fumbling fingers and then elegantly found its way out the window and into the blue sky outside.

"Severus will not be put in front of any tribunal. He will not be forced to testify in any hearing, neither in court nor in my office. Is that clear, Alastor?"

Moody took another step closer towards Snape who found himself with his back to the wall suddenly. His black eyes flickered nervously from Moody to Dumbledore.

"I guess if you trust him, I have no choice but to have faith in your judgement."

The Auror's voice held a very palpable sense of disappointment which the headmaster chose to ignore.

"I am glad we agree on this one, old friend. Now, it's time for us to get ready for the next dreaded hearing. Severus, you should stay here, it wouldn't be wise for you to appear in public right now."

The addressed wizard nodded slowly, edging towards a bookshelf and away from the still fuming Moody who was now grabbing his coat. Without looking at the younger one Moody spat:

"I presume you already heard that your friend Malfoy got off the hook without any outside help? Said he acted under a curse. Not very believable, if you ask me, but money can bend the truth into the most obscure shapes, I guess."

Snape kept his mouth shut, yet his eyes were talking – of anger, fear, contempt and something deeper, more primitive. Moody seemed to be pleased by that reaction, for his already slightly disfigured face broke into a grim smile as he limped a little closer once more, glancing casually towards the back of the room where Dumbledore was skipping through a collection of revoltingly ugly hats, throwing the unwanted ones sloppily onto the floor.

"Whatever he may or may not believe", he whispered "I know that you are a turncoat. You are loyal to no one but yourself. Congratulations, kid, you have managed to choose the right side at the right time. But rest assured, wherever you go, whatever you do, I will be there do remind you of the corpses that line your path."

Snape had started shivering, yet he didn't back away from the menacing stare and the hateful voice. Ruthlessly Moody went on.

"I will remind you of Alison, Rita, Raymond, Evan, Paul and Jeanette, Frank and Alice, James and Lily. I will remind you of unnamed and uncounted dead Muggles. I will remind you of the dead children. And I haven't forgotten about your father either."

Moody was so close now that he could see his own reflection in Snape's wide open eyes. With a satisfied grunt he turned on his heels and strode off towards the door, leaving the younger man shaking with what seemed to be helpless anger. Suddenly a frown appeared between the dark eyes and Snape dared to take a step into the room, towards Moody.

"Which children?" he asked hoarsely.

Moody shot around. Dumbledore stopped his search for a fitting headgear and turned around slowly.

"Don't think I didn't know that you had met with Albus right after I had left."

Still nothing more than a whisper, accompanied by fiery eyes.

"He was so excited about that day nursery for magically talented children from all-magical as well as Muggle families; he was bound to talk to you about it, safety or not. And you ran straight to your master to tell him about it, didn't you? _The perfect opportunity for wiping them out before they can become dangerous_, is that what you thought?"

Moody was screaming now, his hands clenched into fists at his sides. Fawkes fluttered nervously around the room. Dumbledore stood perfectly still, just looking at the two men.

"What children? The children that were killed on that first day the nursery was opened! The children that were snatched out of their parents' arms by masked and hooded monsters! The children that died, because _you_ needed something to satisfy master with, to proof your loyalty!"

Moody's face glowed red with fury, yet he didn't move a muscle. His eyes were fixed on the young and stricken face before him that had lost all of the little colour it had possessed. Snape managed to focus on Dumbledore.

"You told me there were guards. Magical guards. You told me nobody would be able to get through."

His eyes glazed over and his voice quivered slightly. Dumbledore let his shoulders sink down slumped into his armchair.

"It was the first day", he whispered, looking at no one, staring off into space.

"There were so many people coming in and going out, Muggles, wizards, we thought it would be better to rely on keen eyes and sharp ears. We hadn't thought … They shouldn't have known … We thought it was safe."

His eyes had lost their sparkle as he looked at Snape in disbelief. The younger man answered the look with one of quiet desperation. 

Mrs. Weasley was storming towards her son, her face as pale as the wall. Bill was crying quietly, had been for a while, judging from his puffy red eyes and his wet face. Harry was dumbfounded.

"They said they weren't worthy of the magical gift", the young man whispered, accepting his mother's comforting arms around him without any resistance or obvious appreciation.

"They told them they didn't deserve to live."

Harry glanced back at the stairs to where he knew Ron and Ginny were watching this scene from underneath his cloak. Nothing stirred and no sound came from them. He considered blowing their cover for a moment, to enable them to support their brother, to join their family in this. Then he changed his mind. Bill probably felt embarrassed enough as it was, crying in front of the other order members, reliving, if only in words, what must have been the nightmare of his childhood. He surely didn't need to know that his younger siblings had seen this moment of weakness.

"He offered me a job", Snape told Malfoy. The blond man sat in an armchair in front of the fire, bouncing an equally blond baby boy on his knees with a rather unenthusiastic expression on his face. Upon hearing his friend's words his mood lightened up visibly.

"As a teacher?" he asked eagerly. Snape nodded.

"Potions", he said quietly.  "I will be starting next term."

"Severus, that's perfect!" Lucius exclaimed, extracting himself from the heavily cushioned armchair with some difficulty, because the baby had settled on pulling at his long hair with vigour.  Allowing himself a small grin Snape stepped in and relieved his friend of the happily chuckling burden, clutching the baby with an experienced grip.

"You will be closer to Albus Dumbledore than ever before", Lucius went on, nearly skipping with excitement as a paced up and down in front of the fireplace.

"You will have direct access to any new information they might get and can keep an eye on their activities for us. Severus, that is marvellous."

The mad glint in his eyes was back.

"That Potter boy is going to come to Hogwarts, you realise that, don't you? We may not be able to find him now and we may not be able to find him soon, but once he starts at Hogwarts he will be directly under your nose."

Snape gently freed a strand of his dark hair from the little boy's grip, offering him a shiny yellow toy wand instead, before he answered.

"That thought has crossed my mind, yes. But it will be ten years until then, Lucius. Ten years in which I will have to be very careful not to draw too much attention to myself. Death threats from people who believe I have betrayed the cause and the master will make that very difficult. Dumbledore's trust may prove immensely valuable for us in the future, but right now it makes my life rather dangerous."

Lucius laid a hand on his friend's shoulder and ruffled his son's hair affectionately.

"Don't worry, eagle nose, I will take care of that. Those who are still loyal to the Dark Lord will listen to me. They will understand how important it is to have you right where you will be."

His voice dropped down to a whisper.

"We will find him, Severus. We will find him and restore his powers and then we will finally watch this world die in a bright burning flare. And from its ashes the new world, the better world will rise like a phoenix. He is not dead, Severus. He is still there. I can still hear him calling to me, feel his presence."

Snape looked down at his left forearm and touched a spot there broodingly.

"I know." 


	26. Chapter 26: Everybody has his place

**Chapter**** 26: ****Everybody**** has his ****place**

Moody gave Snape a sharp blow against the shoulder, earning himself an equally sharp but infinitely better aimed whack against the head by Molly Weasley. 

"Don't do that!" she hissed at him, one arm still wrapped protectively around Bill's shoulder. The young man had recovered slightly and seemed eager to escape her motherly efforts; however, the right moment for an escape hadn't presented itself yet.

Moody was slightly less than pleased by Molly's sudden and physical outburst.

"But don't you see? I was right all along! He is playing both sides, always has been. You heard what he told Malfoy, you just saw it! I've warned Dumbledore not to trust him over and over again. There is no such thing as a converted Death Eater."

"Then why is he showing us all this?" Harry asked quietly. The fact that he was speaking up on Snape's behalf astonished him to no end, yet he was determined. If nobody else did it, he had to. Typical Gryffindor thinking. He smiled inwardly.

"Dumbledore _makes_ him show it. He doesn't have a choice", Moody spat.

Harry shook his head slowly.

"I don't believe that", he declared in a steady voice. "Just look at their faces."

The others followed his advice to find a tense, yet controlled Snape and a sweating, pale Albus Dumbledore who was swaying slightly on the spot.

"To me it seems like Snape is showing us what he wants us to see, even though he cannot end the spell altogether. And why would he give proof that he _did_ betray the Order?"

Putting his feelings into words and uttering them out loud suddenly made them all the more convincing. Indeed, why would Snape show them episodes like the last one? Surely not to give them evidence of his duplicity.

*********

Judging from the lines in Snape's face, his clothing and his surroundings, they had nearly caught up with the present – or so it seemed. He was definitely standing on Hogwarts grounds beside the lake near the castle, and watched how a whistling Albus Dumbledore picked up daisies and arranged them into a neat little bunch. There was an impatient twitch around the younger man's thin mouth and he tapped one foot pointedly on the ground.

"Is it absolutely vital that I watch you doing that? It's not like I have got nothing to do, you know?"

No answer from the whistling headmaster. 

"… with the students arriving in less than a week …"

Two more daisies found their way into the bunch.

"… and Poppy wanting her potions' cabinet refilled …"

Finally the headmaster straightened up, his back emitting a most disturbing sound, and gave Snape a brilliant smile.

"Yes, it's wonderful isn't it, Severus? A new school year about to start, with many dear and well-known and some new faces. This school is just not the same without students."

Snape frowned slightly and muttered under his breath:

"Quiet and peaceful, that's what this school is without students."

Dumbeldore chose to ignore the comment and started walking back towards the castle.

"You know who is starting his magical education this year, don't you?"

Snape snorted.

"Like I could even try to forget it! You and Minerva have been talking about nothing else for the last two months. Famous Harry Potter will finally join the wizarding ranks."

He sighed.

"You are not the only ones who are excited about that."

They entered the castle through the main entrance door and walked up towards the headmaster's office. Their voices echoed slightly in the deserted hallways.

"I know this will not be easy for you, Severus. The hopes of both sides rest on this boy – and on you as well. Do you have any plan on how to deal with this?"

They passed the guarding gargoyle, walked up the spiral staircase and found their usual places inside Dumbledore's office; the headmaster behind his desk, arranging the flowers in a vase that had been a bug moments earlier, Snape in a chair by the now deserted fireplace.

"I can only hope that the boy will be as arrogant and careless as his father and will get expelled before he can become a real problem."

Dumbledore frowned.

"This is no time for sarcasm, my boy."

Snape met the disapproving look with a raised eyebrow.

"Who says I am being sarcastic?"

Fawkes swooped into the room, gave a jingling sound of approval at the sight of the two men and landed with an elegant swing of his fiery wings on the backrest of Dumbledore's chair. Snape looked at the bird and relaxed slightly. Without taking his eyes off the red-golden feathers he continued:

"Seriously, Albus, I still think it would have been better to keep the boy hidden. He was obviously save with those Muggles; none of the remaining Death Eaters had so much as a clue as to where he might be. Now, unfortunately, they do, thanks to Hagrid who paraded him up and down Diagon Alley. Why bring him here, into the centre of everyone's attention?"

"Because", Dumbledore started, leaning forward slightly in his chair and fixing his blue eyes on the younger man, "he needs to be prepared for what lies ahead of him. He has a right to know and to learn and to become what he was meant to be."

Snape stared back.

"Well, that pretty much rules out his choices, don't you think?"

****************

Harry found himself falling into Hermione's bad habit of biting his fingernails. He hadn't really expected to see himself as part of this story – yet it was obvious that he would have to get involved at some point. It was exciting and at the same time embarrassing and for a fleeting second he considered leaving the room. The second passed.

*****************

Draco Malfoy was strutting along the parlour in his parents' house, showing off his new robes and swishing his wand through the air. Tiny sparks of crimson emitted from the tip and fluttered to the ground.

"Could you stop that and sit still for five minutes?"

His mother sounded exasperated. She was sitting at a small desk near the window, a piece of parchment in front of her, a quill in her hand. Pouting her son plopped down onto the couch, twirling his wand around in one hand until it dropped to the floor, hissing angrily.

"DRACO!"

Lucius Malfoy banged a fist onto the table at which he was playing chess with Snape and glared at his son. On the chess board the white queen gathered up her skirts and started running off the chequered board, seemingly frightened by the noise and the vibrations. Snape allowed himself a grin.

"You are dead anyway, Lucius. Even if you hadn't scared the hell out of your queen right now, it's checkmate in three moves."

He cocked his head to one side and gave the remaining figures a thoughtful look.

"Two moves."

Like an arrow from a bow Draco shot over to where the two men where sitting and stood before them, eyes gleaming.

"Will you tell me about the houses again, father? And the story of Salazar Slytherin! I love that one. And …"

Lucius raised a long-fingered hand to stop the boy's stream of words. The hint of a smile played around his lips. More than a hint was gleaming in his eyes.

"Yes, Draco, but later, alright?  Why don't you go up to your room and check again, if the elves have packed everything? I'll be with you in half an hour."

"If they forgot something, can I try some hexes on them?" Draco asked excitedly, fingering his already slightly battered wand again.

"No", the two men said in unison, while Snape reached out quickly to point the wand into a different direction, away from him and his friend. Blushing slightly, the boy turned on his heels and ran up the stairs towards his room. When he was already halfway up he apparently remembered at least a bit of his manners and shouted down again:

"Oh, sorry. See you in three days, Professor!"

The next thing they heard was the slamming of a door. Lucius sighed and relaxed back in his chair.

"Three days. Three more days and this house will be quiet again. Well, at least until Christmas. Won't that be wonderful, dear?"

Narcissa gave him a smile.

"Come on, love, he is not like that all the time. He is just excited to go to Hogwarts, that's all."

She finally gave up on her letter and walked over to the two men. Standing behind her husband she started massaging his shoulders.

"How can you stand _hundreds_ of them every day, Severus?" Lucius asked while closing his eyes and leaning into his wife's touch.

"Excessive use of alcohol and an occasional ritual killing" Snape answered dryly. He located the frightened white queen behind his glass and placed her back in the box, together with the other figures.

"You get used to it after a while", he added with a slight curl of his lips.

Narcissa released her husband's shoulders, which earned her a disappointed frown, and picked up the men's glasses. As she walked over to a small cabinet containing various bottles of liquors she said:

"It was a good decision to keep a little distance between you and Draco. This way it will be much easier for both of you in school. You have always been "Professor Snape" for him, so he won't have to learn not to call you "Uncle" in public."

Snape didn't look at her and busied himself with the chess game's box.

"Even though we would have liked you to accept that position."

Still avoiding her gaze he said softly:

"Let's not talk about this anymore, Narcissa."

She nodded and held out his refilled glass to him. He accepted and she went back to her unfinished correspondence.

"So, are you prepared for this very special class, my friend? My son and Harry Potter entering Hogwarts in the same year and my best friend there to keep an eye on both of them."

Lucius chuckled contently.

"Even though I hope that, as far as Potter is concerned, you will have the chance to lay more than just an eye on him very soon."

His smile had taken a nasty shade and he flashed Snape a slightly mad glance. The Potions Master looked at his counterpart seriously.

"Don't count on that, Lucius. Dumbledore will devote a lot of his personal attention to the boy. It will be practically impossible to get to him directly. I doubt that I will have the chance to get the boy alone any time soon, and even if do, what do you expect me to do?"

Lucius' smile wavered a little, like that was a possibility that he hadn't thought of yet. It was only a moment, then the manic glint was back, accompanied by a passionate self-confidence.

"When the time comes we will now, Severus. He will tell me. And I will tell you."

*******************

So, Draco was not Snape's Godchild, Harry wondered. Even though the Malfoys would have liked him to be. From his behaviour in class it was easy to believe that Draco was his favourite, even among the Slytherins, yet he had obviously refused to accept that specific honour. Interesting.

Inside the bubble Harry was amazed to see his own face, arriving together with the other frightened first years. He had never realized how much taller than him Ron really was. For a moment he felt like a dwarf.

Images of the past years flashed by, some blurry and fast, others a little bit more slowly.

The hexed broom during the Quidditch match; the troll in the girls' bathroom; the dead Unicorn in the forbidden forest; Ron and him arriving at Hogwarts in Mr. Weasley's flying car; the duelling club; their return from Salazar Slytherin's Chamber.

All of these events looked slightly different from Snape's point of view. They seemed a lot less adventurous and a lot more dangerous, for himself as well as for everyone around him. Snape was torn between Dumbledore and Lucius Malfoy, both of them constantly reminding him of Harry's importance to the course, both of them demanding his undivided attention, yet none of them doing a thing to help him.

And slowly, painfully, Harry started to understand why Snape had been so keen on getting him expelled. How much easier would it have been for the spy, if Harry had been out of his reach? How many times had the hated teacher risked his own skin to get the careless and rash boy out of serious trouble?

There was not only the Quidditch match in the first year, but also the incident with the flying car. During that flight he, and Ron as well, had been a sitting duck, a fair game for any Death Eater out looking for him. And it would have been so easy for Snape to just get rid of him then and there, not telling anyone that he found the two, pretending that they had obviously crashed and died or never found their way to Hogwarts.

Harry saw Sirius' face in the maze of passing memories, and even though it looked slightly different, probably warped by Snape's loathing for his Godfather, Harry felt a sharp pain in his breast.

After Sirius' escape from Azkaban there had been an increase in the activities of Voldemort's remaining followers, but the people involved seemed to be confused. They all had felt that something was happening, had felt their mark burning slightly from time to time, like the echo of an old wound.

And then, suddenly, there he was in the hospital wing, right after the horrific and unexpected end of the Triwizard Cup, watching Snape and Sirius staring at each other full of loathing. He saw the two of them shaking hands as briefly as possible, heard Dumbledore send Sirius away, heard himself trying to protest. He saw Sirius storm out of the room and heard Dumbledore talk to Snape:

"Severus, you know what I must ask you to do. If you are ready … if you are prepared …"

He saw Snape go pale and saw, now much clearer than back then, the fear in the man's eyes. Yet he had left the room, the safety of the Hogwarts grounds, had taken his place among Voldemort's followers again.

With a so far unknown sense of apprehension Harry watched as Snape apparated at Malfoy Manor, went inside, found his friend in the parlour. There was a tingle of fear in his stomach as he heard Lucius Malfoy's voice saying:

"I did my best to explain things to him, Severus, but he his not pleased, not pleased at all."

Snape was trembling slightly. So was Harry.


	27. Chapter 27: Well done, my boy

**Chapter**** 27: Well ****done****, ****my****boy******

Snape sat in an armchair facing the fireplace, twirling a glass around in his hands. The liquid within danced along the polished insides and swept dangerously close to the edge sometimes, but not a single drop was spilt. Lucius Malfoy was leaning against the mantelpiece and looked at his friend with a worried frown.

"He was really annoyed with you at first", he said without taking his startlingly bright eyes off the Potions Master.

 "He already knew that you were at Hogwarts. Probably Pettigrew told him."

Snape's head shot up.

"Pettigrew?"

He frowned in disbelief and took unusually long to hide his obvious astonishment. Yet his eyes didn't meet his friend's.

"So, it is true after all", was the only thing he mumbled; his voice, however, was so soft that it wasn't likely the other man had heard him.

"Yes, that grovelling, obnoxious piece of sham without a backbone."

Lucius sounded more than slightly disgusted and wiped his hands on his robes involuntarily.

"Seems to think he is the Master's newest best friend. Brought him back, or so he says, _when nobody else believed in his return anymore_. Like we hadn't all been waiting for the merest hint of a sign to rejoin our Lord."

The usually so beautiful face was contorted into a mask of anger and revulsion and his hands were shaking with an inner fury. Suddenly both men took a sharp breath, almost simultaneously, yet while Lucius Malfoy only flexed his left hand Snape clutched his arm with his right and closed his eyes for a second.

"I guess he is ready for you", Lucius whispered and reached out a hand to pull his somewhat unwilling friend to his feet. 

"I thought we would have more time to talk this through, but maybe it is for the best if you get this over with as soon as possible. Just tell him the truth and he will understand. He was merciful to all of us and I doubt that he will make an exception with you."

As they both strode towards the entrance door Lucius Malfoy abruptly gripped his friend's arm as his whole frame started shaking violently. Snape placed two careful arms gently around the other one's shaking form, muttered something under his breath and watched as the trembling subsided as suddenly as it had come.

*************************************************

So, even Lucius Malfoy had been punished, Harry realised with a certain amount of surprise. He still remembered the scene in the graveyard vividly, where the Death Eaters had rejoined their master; where they all had bowed down, prostrated themselves before Voldemort and kissed the hem of his robes. Back then there had been no castigation for the "_slippery friend_", just a few reprimanding words. Obviously Voldemort's rage upon Harry's unforeseen escape had earned each of his faithful servants his share of the Cruciatus. Harry felt a grim satisfaction rise inside of him.

****************************

The two men apparated in the garden of a ruined old house. Ivy had conquered the sunken walls for the most part and had also found its way inside in some places. The glass in the windows was shattered here and there; the building stared at them with blind eyes.

Facing the house and the two newcomers in front of a withered old tree stood Voldemort, flanked on either side by a slithering snake and a nervously whispering Pettigrew. Ten Death Eaters, fully robed and masked, formed a semi-circle behind him. Snape looked into Voldemort's face and shuddered involuntarily.

********************************           

Harry remembered the feeling well. The face was just not human with its flat, reptile-like nostril slits, the pale skin that stretched over a face that was more a skull than anything else. And those eyes. Those red eyes. Every time he remembered the eyes he heard the hissing voice and felt the pain in his scar. Red eyes that caused shiny green pain.

*********************************         

"So, you have not only forgotten me but also your manners."

The high pitched voice, so different from the former silken sounds, shook Snape out of his momentary daze. Hastily he lowered his eyes and sank down onto his knees. Beside him Lucius Malfoy did the same, but was ordered to rise again soon after by a pale, unnaturally long fingered hand.

Snape kept staring at the grass under his knees. The hem of dark robes appeared on the edge of his vision, then suddenly the ground rushed in on him as Voldemort obviously pushed him down, insisting on a more humble display of devotion.

"Lucius spoke for you, and very eloquently so, otherwise you would be hanging upside down from that tree by now, begging me for your death."

The robes were so long that Snape could hardly see the tip of Voldemort's shoes. It was like night had suddenly crept in on him as silken blackness blocked everything else from view.

"He pointed out", Voldemort continued, "that, were you really a traitor, you wouldn't be so keen on leaving Dumbledore's protective habitat and rejoining our ranks. And that is what you want, is it not, Severus?"

A dark boot casually found its way onto Snape's left hand, crushing his fingers into the ground.

"Yes, Master", Snape answered. Somehow he managed to keep his voice steady in spite of the pain he had to be feeling.

"If you would have me back."

There was a moment of silence, framed by the sounds of a snake sliding through high grass. The boot disappeared.

"Get up!"

Slowly Snape brought himself up to a kneeling position, careful not to put too much pressure on the mangled hand, even more careful not to raise his gaze. As he moved to get up completely and straighten his back he found the snake staring at him with cold eyes and heard the Dark Lord's voice behind his back:

"That's far enough, Severus. You haven't earned your way back up yet. You don't deserve to be eye to eye with your former brothers; the way there will be long. And rather painful, I'm afraid."

The blow came out of nowhere. A fist connected with his left temple with a sickening sound, blurring his vision.

"You still have to convince me that you are worthy of my punishment – and then, eventually, my forgiveness."

Shadows and phantoms moved around him, closed in on him as noiselessly as they had closed in on his father.

"Stay clear of his face", Voldemort ordered coldly. "He must have a chance to keep up his disguise when he returns to Hogwarts."

Snape bit his lip to stifle the moans and cries that must have been rising in his throat as the Death Eaters unleashed their wrath upon him. The only sounds to be heard were the ruffling of robes, the shuffling of feet and soft thuds whenever a fist, a boot or a branch connected with some part of Snape's anatomy.

"Lucius, my friend, walk with me", Voldemort said.

***********************************

Harry shuddered. To know the fate waiting at the end of the tunnel and still to walk through, that took courage. For a moment he wondered which house the Sorting Hat would find appropriate for the Potions Master today.

**********************************

Snape sat on the edge of a tub in a richly decorated bathroom. His bare chest was covered with bruises and cuts, his arms scratched. Carefully Narcissa Malfoy dabbed a wet cloth over his pale skin, washing away the blood that had already started to crust. As she reached a particularly nasty bruise on his ribcage he inhaled sharply and reflexively drew back from her.

"Sorry", she muttered. He visibly tried to relax and she dared to continue her ministrations.

Lucius burst into the room, carrying several bottles and jars. A deep sigh escaped him upon seeing his battered friend and he exchanged a quick look with his wife.

"At least one broken rib; apart from that mainly bruises and cuts", she informed him softly, glancing up at the younger man's face earnestly and laying the cloth, by now blood stained, to the side. Lucius rested a hand on her arm shortly and she left the room, glancing back inside from the doorframe before leaving the two men alone.

Silently Malfoy opened one of the bottles and poured a generous amount of a shiny blue liquid into a glass. Snape accepted and drank it without a word, shuddering slightly as the potion ran through his body and grimacing at the taste.

Finally, while his friend applied different lotions and ointments onto his wounded body with practised hands, he spoke.

"I assume this was not it."

Lucius continued his work without looking at Snape.

"No. He as an assignment for you. You know where Karkaroff is?"

"No. But I could find out."

"Then better do it. Find him. Kill him. Bring his head before the Master."

Snape closed his eyes and took a deep breath.

***********************************

In the courtyard of an obviously long deserted factory Voldemort held court among his Death Eaters. White masks shone in the light of a slightly muddy moon that wandered across the sky. A fire was crackling away in a tastelessly merry fashion and licked red-golden tongues across Snape's pale skin. He stood face to face with Voldemort, maybe an arm's length from the other man, and surrounded by countless hooded figures. His eyes were cast down and in his hand there was a stained bag.

Trembling slightly he opened the bag, reached inside and pulled out a head by its short silver hair. Dark glassy eyes, frozen in a moment of surprise, stared at the fire, reflecting the flickering light like fragments of frosted glass. The silver-white goatee, which finished in a small curl, was dotted with little drops of blood. 

Daring to raise his eyes from the bag and towards the Dark Lord Snape lifted the hand that held the severed skull. Voldemort nodded and the crowd around them cheered.

"Well done, my boy. I knew you hadn't lost your touch."

The high-pitched voice sounded eerie in its attempt to whisper. As Voldemort reached out to take the disgusting trophy from Snape and shortly touched his hand Snape shuddered and lowered his eyes again.

With a thin-lipped smile Voldemort threw Karkaroff's head into the fire, watching for a moment as the flames licked over the waxen skin as if tasting the offered prey before devouring it hungrily. Then he turned towards the Death Eaters and silenced them with a dramatic gesture.

"Another traitor has met his well-deserved fate. And another brother has returned home."

Snapping his fingers impatiently at Wormtail he reached out for something that the smaller man had kept hidden behind his back and offered it to Snape. It was a white mask, identical to the ones that surrounded them.

"The first part of the way is done", he declared, watching as Snape accepted the disguise and put it on with practiced hands.

"You may rejoin your brothers in their effort to achieve our common goal for you have proven yourself worthy of their company."

Snape bowed down low and started to walk towards a gap that had been opened for him in the circle. He hadn't quiet reached his place yet, looking into the relieved blue eyes of Lucius Malfoy twinkling at him from underneath a nearby mask, when he heard a rustling of robes behind him.

"And you have also proven yourself worthy of my punishment."

Slowly he turned around and faced his master once more, fists clenched at his sides, his breathing a little laboured.

"_Crucio_!"

As he slumped to the ground in a heap of fire and agony he heard Voldemort say:

"In time you may even earn my forgiveness and trust again."

****************************

It was a sunny day and Snape looked out of a window over what seemed to be the Hogwarts grounds. Behind him soft hooting noises could be heard and Minerva McGonagall called his name impatiently.

"Severus, will you give me that potion now?"

Tearing his gaze away from the blue and green outside he turned around and stepped up to the Deputy Headmistress. In the palm of her hand she held a tiny screech owl that twittered nervously and nibbled at her fingers with half-hearted anger.

From his robes Snape drew a little bottle which contained a gooey liquid. With an elegant move he uncorked the bottle and poured the liquid into the bird's beak, held open by a determined Minerva McGonagall. The whole procedure didn't last longer than a couple of seconds after which the bird hastily flew off and found a safe place on a prop high up under the ceiling, away from groping human hands. 

McGonagall started heading for the door, throwing an impatient look back into the room.

"Aren't you coming?"

With that she walked out and started her descent from one of the innumerable towers back to the main hall.

"You're welcome", Snape said loudly before he followed, catching up with her easily with his long strides.

Passing the main hall they came across Albus Dumbledore who was talking to Filch, offering the other man a Sherbet Lemon and stroking Mrs. Norris behind her long furry ears. Filch used the two teachers' approach as an obviously appreciated reason to excuse himself and fled off along the next corridor.

"Sherbet Lemon, anyone?" Dumbledore asked happily. Snape and McGonagall exchanged an exasperated look before declining politely. Dumbledore shrugged and put one of the sticky sweets into his mouth, smacking his lips together in evident pleasure. 

They had all started heading off in different directions – McGonagall up to her rooms, Snape down towards the Dungeons, Dumbledore out into the yard – when the headmaster suddenly reached out a hand and held the Potions Master back.

"Did everything go well, Severus?"

The blue eyes shone with expectant curiosity. Snape looked down at the hand resting on his arm thoughtfully before he met Dumbledore's gaze. Then he nodded.

"Yes, of course."

"Excellent!" 

Dumbledore's face shone with contentment. 

"Well done, my boy. You will keep me updated?"

"Certainly."

Snape's voice was as unreadable as his facial expression as he watched the headmaster step through the open doors into the sunshine outside. From the top of the staircase Minerva McGonagall looked down on him, frowning slightly. He gave her a forced smile and disappeared down towards the dungeons.


	28. Chapter 28: Trust

**Chapter 28: Trust**

Harry heard a whimpering sound and was shocked to find that it had escaped the lips of Albus Dumbledore. The old wizard was swaying on the spot, sweat was pouring down his face and he was shaking his head slowly as if to chase away the ghosts he had conjured up.

Snape seemed to have taken a step into the room. He was not leaning against the wall anymore and had somehow escaped Moody's grip. His face was pale and strained, his lips pressed into a thin line. His hands were clasped into tight fists, so tight, in fact, that Harry could see blood dripping from the knuckles. Probably his nails had punctured the skin of his palm.

To his left Harry heard an impatient hissing and when he turned his head slightly, careful not to draw any attention to himself, he saw Hermione at the top of the stairs. Her face was flushed and she looked distressed. Shaking her head fiercely she held out her outstretched arms, palms facing up, in a gesture of helpless defeat. Then she let them drop to her sides again and looked at Harry with a silent plea in her eyes. _Do something!_

Harry's mind was racing. Which spells did he know that would help him here? How could he interrupt the connection?

The memories had turned into an onslaught of pictures now. Snape seemed to race from one meeting to the next, dividing his attention between the Death Eaters and the Order of the Phoenix. He quarrelled with Lucius Malfoy about strategies and too drastic steps. He had heated discussions with Dumbledore about the headmaster's policy of secrecy with Harry.

"He HAS to know! How can I teach him, if he doesn't understand?!"

From the looks of it he never won a single of those verbal battles.

Things became even more stressed when Dolores Umbridge appeared on the scene, questioning Snape's ability as a teacher and his loyalty to the Ministry as well as turning the Slytherin students into spies on everybody.

In a quiet corner of Malfoy Manor Snape watched Narcissa Malfoy arranging some flowers in front a marble statue. Yellow leaves brushed the feet of the carefully carved angel as the woman replaced withered roses with fresh ones. Still kneeling down she said in a steady voice:

"You need to be more careful, Severus. There are many who still don't trust you and are just waiting for you to make a mistake."

She got up, wiped her elegant hands on her robes and turned around to face him.

"If you go down, you will take Lucius with you; you know that, don't you?"

Snape gave her a puzzled look.

"Narcissa, I don't …"

She cut him short by placing her long index finger on his lips and fixed him with an icy-blue stare.

"Kreacher has come here to see me. You know who Kreacher is?"

Snape shook his head. His eyes had become small and his shoulders tense.

"Kreacher was my aunt's house-elf and now serves my cousin – Sirius."

She waited a moment to let her words sink in, possibly to give him the chance to react. He didn't.

"He told me about many wizards meeting at his master's house", she continued, "_filthy wizards_, as he called them, half-breeds and Mudbloods. He told me about new inhabitants and frequent visitors."

Snape gulped visibly but still didn't say anything.

With a heavy sigh Narcissa sank down onto a nearby bench, pulling him with her. There they sat in silence for more than a minute, until Narcissa took Snape's hand and started talking again, avoiding his eyes and staring off into the far ends of the large garden.

"My conviction has never been as strong as yours, Severus. I have never cared for anything else but my own family and maybe that makes me a shallow person. If it wasn't for Lucius, I would never have entered the ranks and I think partly this is true also for you."

She looked at him for confirmation and he finally dared to nod slightly.

"I want my family to be safe", she went on, now looking him right into the eye. "Can you promise me that they will be safe? Can you promise me that whatever you do, whichever way you decide to turn in the end, you will protect them, my son and my husband?"

He didn't flinch when he answered.

"That's why I'm still here, Narcissa."

She nodded. Obviously his answer was sufficient for her.

As she started to walk back towards the mansion, leaving him sitting on the bench alone, she turned around once more.

"I told Lucius what I had to tell him – nothing more. But you have to be more careful, Severus. For all our sakes."

"I want to come with you", Snape declared steadily as he hastened along beside Albus Dumbledore. The headmaster shook his head.

"Too dangerous, Severus. What if they see you? Besides, I think we will be able to handle this without you."

Snape glared at the older wizard with an unusual intensity.

"But I know their weaknesses better than anyone else. If I'm fast enough, no one will have a chance to see me."

Dumbledore stopped dead in his tracks, grabbed Snape's arm and gave him a look of utmost impatience.

"Severus, I don't have time for this now! This is not the right moment to play the hero. You have already done a great deal and you would help me even more if you went to Grimmauld Place and made sure that Sirius doesn't do anything …rash."

With that Dumbledore stormed on and left a fuming Snape behind.

But that's not what happened, Harry thought with the part of his brain that was not frantically searching for a way out of this. Snape hadn't talked to the headmaster and he hadn't gone to Grimmauld Place. He had informed the others and had then gone to the forest to look for Harry. At least that was what Dumbledore had told Harry afterwards.

When Snape stormed through the door there was no sign of Sirius Black, just a happily chuckling house-elf that danced a little victory dance on a rug in front of the fireplace.

"Gone for good he his, the _master_", he chanted manically, "and finally meets disaster. Never, never comes he back and peace is for the House of Black."

Snape didn't bother to ask the mad elf what was going on or where Sirius was. He didn't even close the door behind him as he stormed out again.

He arrived at the Ministry far too late. Officials were running around, obviously at a loss. Debris was scattered wherever he looked and Aurors were searching the place. When he heard one of them ticking names off a list his face went blank.

"…, Dolohov and Malfoy have already been sent there by portkey."

Narcissa was crying.

"You promised me, Severus!" she yelled at him. "You promised me he would be safe and now he is in Azkaban!"

Helplessly he held her, endured her wrath and the punches she threw at his chest and waited until the tears and the anger subsided.

Pictures started overlapping each other now. Lupin's face changed into that of a young Death Eater, Moody's into the ragged face of McNair, Dumbledore's into Voldemort's.

"Where is he?"

The question echoed around them as if repeated by a dozen voices and reflected by a hundred walls.

"Has he contacted you? Did you hear anything? _Where is he?_"

Snape's face was a mask of anger and harassment as he took another step towards Dumbledore who was crying now, tears mingling with the sweat.

"_Where is he?_"

Hermione had pressed her hands against her ears to block out the deafening sounds that poured out of the bubble and into the room.

Harry felt as if his head was about to burst. His gaze went frantically from Dumbledore's pained face to Snape's tormented expression. Without thinking he started running towards them. He didn't have a plan. He didn't even have the merest hint of an idea. He just knew that this had to stop or they would all go insane.

With all his might he threw himself against the headmaster's shaking form, dragging the older man down with him. In that exact same moment he heard Tonks' voice shouting:

"_Expelliarmus!"_

The bubble burst.

Tiny particles of pure light shot out into every direction, trailing little tails behind them like miniature comets. For a moment it seemed like all sounds had died and been replaced by a silence so deafening that it hurt more than the just subsided thunder.

Then the world of noise returned and Harry heard himself draw a sharp breath. Beside him Dumbledore moaned quietly as he tried to raise himself from the ground. Harry made a move to help the headmaster, but Lupin quickly stepped between them, forcing Harry to retreat under the table to avoid being trampled on, while Tonks lend the older wizard a hand.

Confused Harry tried to glimpse out from underneath the table. He didn't know what he had expected to see, yet the sight of Snape's face struck him to the chore. There was no anger, no hate anymore, just the most intense desperation he had ever seen. Tears clung to the fathomless black eyes, too stubborn and still too proud to fall. The thin lips were parted slightly and he heard laboured breathing, like the man was trying to gather control over his voice.

"Did you see what you wanted to see?" he finally asked in a deadly whisper.

"Did you get what you want? IS IT OVER NOW?"

Finally the tears surrendered as Snape fixed his eyes on Dumbledore, who had fought his way back to his feet again. With one hand the older wizard reached out to steady himself on Tonks' arm, but the young witch took a step backwards and turned away from him, facing the wall. Nobody stepped in to take her place.

"Severus, I …" Dumbledore's voice was shaky.

"No, you're not", Snape interrupted him before he had even begun.

"If you are sorry for anything, then for the fact that it didn't work."

Snape was crying now, all his attention fixed on Dumbledore, which was probably his only way to see this through. Acknowledging the presence of the others would have meant acknowledging the public humiliation.

"You never really trusted me, did you? You defended me in front of anyone else, but in your heart you never trusted me."

Dumbledore didn't answer, at least not verbally. But when he cast down his eyes Harry knew that Snape had hit the point.

With the sleeve of his robe Snape wiped away his tears – like a little child, Harry thought – and made for the door. His steps were shaky, yet he obviously tried to put as much grace and dignity into them as he could muster. In the doorframe he stopped and whispered "_Accio wand_". Noiselessly his wand made its way from Moody's pocket into Snape's outstretched hand. Long fingers grabbed the handle so hard that the knuckles turned white.

Arthur Weasley and his son as well as Alastor Moody reached for their own wands, expecting some sort of emotional outburst, some imminent act of revenge.

In the blink of an eye Snape had disappeared.

"He's going to Voldemort", whispered Molly Weasley. "He will tell him everything he knows. We are as good as dead."

Harry finally appeared from underneath the table, shaking with anger. He tasted bile in his throat and was frowning so hard that his eyes hurt. How his wand had come into his hand he couldn't remember.

"Hypocrites!" he yelled. "Spineless lying hypocrites! You are supposed to be the brave and honest ones! You are supposed to stand for justice and compassion!"

Fuming he turned towards Dumbledore.

"And you!"

He was so angry that the words kept slipping away from him which did nothing to quench his fury.

"You lied to me! About Sirius; about him, about myself! How can you expect to be trusted if all you ever do is lie?!"

Dumbfounded Albus Dumbledore stared at Harry's wand, at the tip that still pointed straight at his chest. Then he sat down on a chair and sighed heavily.


	29. CHapter 29: Turning Tide

A/N: Sorry for the long absence, everyone. I caught an extremely nasty virus and lost many of my files and programmes. Yes, I did have backup, but not for each and every programme on my computer (NOW I do!), and getting everything back on line (literally) was a loooooot of work. One half of the stuff I lost I needed for my work, the other half for my nearly finished University thesis, so I just had to give priority to these things.

As you can see I have started writing again and I saw that many of you already sent reviews. I haven't had the time to read any of it yet, wanting to use my little bit of free time for writing, but I will do so right after I posted this chapter.

Thank you so much for your patience and your encouraging words – and also for a couple of well aimed kicks. g

Anyone who sent me an email before April – sorry, guys, I don't have your email addresses anymore, otherwise I would have send you a short note.

**Chapter 29: Turning Tide**

Dumbledore was staring off into empty space. His lips were moving, yet no sound could be heard. Dried tears had left paths of sorrow on his wrinkled face. Harry couldn't remember a time when the impressive wizard had looked this old and withered.

Behind him Lupin had started to gather up his coat, scarf and gloves. Tonks was following his example, obviously getting ready to leave.

Answering the questioning looks the others threw him Lupin said:

"I'm going to go looking for Severus."

Moody nodded vigorously.

"Good idea, son. He is probably confused enough so that you stand a chance of finding him before he reaches Voldemort or any of his Death Eater friends. Bring him directly to my house, will you."

Lupin regarded the disfigured Auror with a look of loathing.

"I want to check if he is all right", was all he said before walking off briskly, a slightly shaken yet determined Tonks in his wake.

"I can explain."

Dumbledore's voice lacked its usual resonance, yet it drew everybody's attention with ease. Lupin stopped, his right hand on the door handle.

"I need to find Severus."

The door opened, let in the night and the cold. With a swish of Lupin's cloak both he and Tonks were gone. None of them had bothered to close the door again.

> _Deep down in the Dungeons Severus Snape rested his head against damp tiles. Hot water had been splashing down on him for the last fifteen minutes, burning his pale skin, leaving it red and raw. Tears were still streaming down his face. Slowly he slumped down to the floor and huddled himself into a tight ball. At first he tried to stifle the sobs rising from his throat, from the bottom of his heart. Then he surrendered to the overwhelming feeling of loss and utter despair and cried, cried like he hadn't cried in years._

Molly Weasley handed the headmaster a glass of some amber coloured liquid. Alcohol, without any doubt.

"You said you could explain."

Hermione's voice quivered and somehow fit with her pale face, the large eyes and the trembling lip. She was standing at the bottom of the stairs, flanked on either side by Ron and Ginny, both of whom hung their heads and didn't dare to look up at the grown-ups, especially not their parents.

"Explain, then", she demanded.

Harry gave her a grim yet encouraging smile. He had never been more proud of her.

Albus Dumbledore emptied his glass in one move, then stared down at his own hands. His brows were furrowed and he seemed to struggle for the right words.

"Several Death Eaters have escaped from Azkaban prison", he finally started, his voice surprisingly soft and gentle.

"All of them have rejoined their master – all but Lucius Malfoy."

"And you know that, because Professor Snape told you", Harry interrupted angrily. Only when he heard his own words did he realise that he had instinctively granted Snape his title for the first time.

Dumbledore nodded.

"Yes, he told me. He told all of us."

His gaze wandered through the room, rested shortly on the faces of the other members of the Order.

"But we were convinced – _I_ was convinced that he had to know more than he told us. Severus and Lucius, they have been friends since Severus' first year, you saw it. Lucius is the only reason Severus and I ever fought – apart from you, Harry. I was so sure that he _knew_ where his friend was."

The old wizard's voice trailed off and he started to finger one of his rings nervously.

Arthur Weasley laid a hand on Dumbledore's arm.

"We asked him today, Albus. We asked him many times. He told us he didn't know and we believed him."

Behind her husband Molly Weasley nodded, the look on her face an intriguing mix of apologising and accusing. Alastor Moody clonked over to an empty chair and sat down heavily.

"I didn't", he grunted. "Snape would do anything to protect that slimy aristocratic bastard. You saw for yourself. You heard what he said."

He looked at Harry with a sickening certainty, yet it was Hermione who answered.

"Yes, we heard and we saw what he said. We saw it, because the man that we looked up to and thought wise and just beyond all measure broke into another man's soul."

She looked at Moody with eyes that seemed to belong to a far older person.

"And maybe we saw something that you were not able to see."

She kneeled down in front of the headmaster and looked up at him imploringly.

"Please, sir. Why did you do it?"

She needed to know. Harry could sense that her view on the world depended on the answer to that question and he had to admit that he was as tense and eager to hear it.

Dumbledore rested a hand on her thin shoulder and she didn't flinch or draw back, a reaction that seemed to encourage him.

"Because I misjudged him, Miss Granger. Because I felt guilty. Because I knew I had taken some very bad decisions and was sure that he had taken appropriate steps."

He sighed and closed his eyes.

"I have not listened to him so many times, have ignored his advice and listened to my own proud heart rather than his keen mind. I have disappointed him, let him down. It would have been only too understandable, had he decided to take care of himself after I had stopped to care for him."

Finally he looked up, at Arthur and Molly Weasley, at Bill, at Harry.

"He was right, I didn't trust him anymore. And I was so sure to find proof for my suspicions that I didn't even mind performing this spell on him in front of you all. I thought it would simplify matters if I had witnesses straight away."

All the colour had slipped from his face and he ran two shaking hands through his hair. Finally his eyes came to rest on Hermione again.

"I knew there was a traitor in the room, Miss Granger. I just didn't have the courage to admit that it was me."

Deadalus Diggle appeared from the shadows of the eerily quiet room to rest a hand on the headmaster's shaking shoulder, a gesture that earned him a withering look from Harry.

"Don't be too hard on yourself, Professor Dumbledore, sir", he said, an uncertain air clinging to his unusually sober voice.

"We all make mistakes."

"And I am still not sure you made one", exclaimed Moody while banging a fist on the table. Little dust flakes took flight half-heartedly before settling down on the tabletop again, apparently indifferent to the situation around them.

"He _is_ a traitor, after all! He serves two masters and how are we to know which one he will be loyal to in the end?"

Harry could hardly believe his ears. He was just about to give Alastor Moody, famous Auror and war hero, a piece of his young and agitated mind when Bill Weasley interrupted his chaotic thoughts.

"Tonight we all might have made it a lot easier for him to decide where his loyalties lie."

> _Wind tugged at Severus Snape's cloak and blew his dark hair out of his face. His eyes were red and puffy, yet by now he was past the point of crying. His right hand clutched a bottle of dubious origin which held a pale green liquid while he steadied himself against the stone wall with his left. Slowly he sank down along the wall, the pinnacle in front of him blocking the icy blast at least a little. Snow settled determinedly on his cloak, his hair and his unbuckled boots. He took a large sip from the bottle and didn't even try to ignore the cold._

The Weasleys had tried to send them all up to their rooms, but Harry wouldn't budge and the others had followed his example. They had all settled down around the kitchen table, Ginny fast asleep with her head resting on the table, Hermione between Harry and Ron opposite of Mr and Mrs Weasley. Dumbledore sat alone and forlorn at the head of the table, avoiding everyone's gaze, especially Harry's.

Bill was busy preparing tea for everyone and seemed to be immensely glad to have something to take his mind off what had happened there that night.

"So", Harry spat into the room belligerently "what are we going to do?"

"We?" Mrs Weasley asked. She clearly thought that they had already seen and heard too much and were to be kept out of further developments at all costs. Like that was even possible anymore!

"_We_ will wait until the others have returned from their search and _you_ will go to bed in a couple of minutes and try to catch some sleep."

Her husband let out an exasperated sigh, rolled his eyes at her and then got up, pretending to help Bill with the tea. Harry crossed his arms across his chest and leaned back on his chair as far as possible without forcing the chair's feet to leave the ground.

"What happens when they find him? What happens if they _don't_ find him? Is anyone going to actually _do_ something?"

At that Dumbledore heaved a huge sigh, got up from his chair and drew himself up to his full impressive height. He appeared to grow by the minute as an aura of determination settled around him, relighting the sparkle in his eyes and taking some of the weight off his shoulders. He looked resolved and calm, yet when he spoke there was still a slight tingle of something strange to his voice, guilt mixed with shame and bewilderment.

"There are really not that many places he could go to, even less places he _would_ go to. And I am the only one who knows all of them."

Before anyone could say anything or move to interfere, a very determined Albus Dumbledore had strode out of the kitchen, covered the distance to the front door with a few purposeful steps and disappeared into the darkness outside.

Harry wasn't sure he wanted the headmaster to be the one to find the Potions Master. Absentmindedly he accepted the cup of tea that Ron had shoved towards him. Pictures were racing through his mind, contradicting memories and tales that made his inner world shake and tremble. He took a casual sip of the hot liquid in front of him, hardly noticing that he burnt his tongue.

> _Severus Snape pressed his hands against his temples and closed his eyes shut. Pictures were threatening to drown him, uninvited visitors from the past, debris from a life that he thought he had buried so deep that he wouldn't even be able to find it if he wanted to. Yet here they were, roaming through his mind and soul, tearing loose other bits and pieces that he had just barely managed to store away._
> 
> _With a vehemence that surprised even him he pushed himself away from the wall, stood tall and let out a howl that came from the bottom of the pool of mankind's misery. The bottle, by now empty, left his hand and flew in a tight arch down into the yard where it shattered into tiny splinters that were swallowed by the thick snow._

Minerva McGonagall was more than worried. When Remus Lupin had told her about what had happened at Grimmauld Place that night she thought she must have been trapped in an exceptionally realistic nightmare. More than an hour later she still hadn't managed to wake up.

While almost all the other members of the Order were out there looking for Severus she was stuck here at Hogwarts, waiting for any news, any word that the others might send. How she longed to be out there, looking for the lost boy who had turned into a colleague and friend over the years, who had defied destiny simply by leading his life in spite of the odds and whom she had come to rely on more than she dared to admit.

She was deep in thought, wondering what madness could have caused Albus Dumbledore to act like an impersonation of the evil they were all fighting against, when a heart-wrenching howl and the muffled sound of splintering glass brought her back into the here and now.

The very cold here and now.

Shuddering she drew out her wand to illuminate the snow-covered cobblestone in front of her and saw the broken remains of a glass bottle just a few metres away from the castle wall. Tiny droplets of green liquid sprinkled the immaculately white surface of the snow.

Before her keen mind had a chance to come to any well-founded conclusions her legs had already started to move, carrying her inside the castle and up the stairs towards the owlery.


	30. Chapter 30: Inside

A/N: Thank you for all your wonderful and extremely helpful reviews. Some of them were so flattering that I blushed up to my ears. ;-)

Don't worry, I won't kill any canon character in this story, neither Severus nor Albus. But as you can see I had to change the PoV to make sure that you will get the reactions of all the people involved. Much as I like the style of JKR in that respect, for the rest of this story it would be just too impractical.

Hopefully you'll forgive me for that lapse.

Oh, and please keep correcting my spelling and grammar mistakes, I am always grateful for that, since I am not a native English speaker and have no beta at the moment.

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**_Chapter_****_ 30: _****_Inside_****__**

Harry's cup was almost empty. Timid spots of light brown stained the insides and there was still a little lake of tea on the bottom, reflecting the light of the kitchen lamp and Harry's left eye. Mr. Weasley had covered his daughter's slumped form with a heavy blanket and kept ignoring his wife's requests to carry the snoring little lump upstairs and into bed. Hermione was flicking through one of the many books she had found in Sirius' old bedroom, her eyes doing a pretty good job at pretending to actually read, but Harry wasn't fooled – she wasn't reading, just trying to focus her mind on something familiar.

Bill had left quite a while ago, along with almost everybody else, under the excuse of seeing Moody home. Harry was sure that the young man had only wanted a reason to leave the house. He understood this urge well.

Ron sat with his back to the table and the room in general, staring glumly into the fire. With as little noise as possible Harry finally set his cup down, drew his chair up to his friend's and settled down beside the silent red-head.

"You ok?" he asked in the softest voice he could muster. Ron didn't answer.

"Pretty mind-shattering, all of this, isn't it?" Harry tried again. Ron sighed. He was strangling the cup in his hands and wouldn't take his eyes off the fire.

"I don't know what to believe anymore. Or who", he said, while the flames cast eerie shadows on his pale face.

"I mean, there I was, thinking I had it all worked out … who are the good guys … who are the bad guys. And now everything is changed."

He drew a deep breath and finally glanced over at Harry.

"Do you think it was a lie?"

"What?" Harry asked, slightly harsher than he had intended. "What we have been told? What we have seen for ourselves over the last years? Or what we have seen tonight?"

Ron looked up at him, confused. On the other side of the table Hermione laid her book down and watched them.

"Nobody lied to you."

Mr. Weasley had joined the conversation almost unnoticed and definitely uninvited. Harry was still inclined to regard any "adult" comment with a newfound amount of scepticism and slight aggression – yet somehow it wasn't that difficult to make an exception for Arthur Weasley.

"Well, you didn't exactly tell us the truth, either", he tried to snap and found that his voice was rather more shaky than he had expected.

"We kept things from you, that is true. We didn't _tell you the truth_. But we didn't lie to you."

Carefully the tall man folded his long limbs together and sat down on the little bench beside the fireplace. His knees were nearly level with his shoulders and he squirmed uncomfortably.

"As you might have noticed tonight, there were many things we didn't know, either."

"Did you expect Professor Dumbledore would do something like that?"

Hermione's voice was almost inaudible. Harry knew that she was as shocked by the headmaster's unexpected change of character as he was himself. Expectantly he looked at Mr. Weasley. The man glanced towards his wife, who was busy cleaning already sparkling dishes. Then he sighed, heavily, as if that sigh had been waiting for an escape route for a long time now.

"Albus Dumbledore had to take decisions, and still has to take them, that would tear my heart and soul apart. I have known him for a very long time, yet he still manages to surprise me. Even shock me."

He looked at Hermione.

"No, I didn't expect anything like that. I didn't even know he could do that spell. But then … there is probably no spell that is beyond his ability. Just beyond his ethics."

Ron propped his elbows onto his knees and rested his chin in his hands. Instinctively his father reached out to ruffle the red shock of hair, so much like his own.

"What do you think is going to happen now?" Harry finally found the courage to ask. If anyone knew, then surely Arthur Weasley.

"I don't have the slightest clue, Harry."

The fire kept on crackling while Molly Weasley rinsed out the same teapot for the fourth time.

> > Minerva McGonagall cursed silently under the little breath she had left. Racing up the stairs was something for younger people, not for a witch who was slightly past her prime. She didn't pause for a single second, though, very much aware of the fact that the time she needed to get up to roof of the owlery might be crucial in saving her colleague's life.
>> 
>> When she finally stumbled into the high room and towards one of the big windows, she had the feeling her lung was about to collapse. Allowing her tired body the briefest of pauses she rested against the stone frame and glanced outside. Her heart sank.
>> 
>> There he was, standing on the stony parapet of the little tower beside the owlery, swaying slightly while his cloak billowed in the icy wind. His hands were clenched into tight fists. His whole body seemed as tense as a string on a bow.
>> 
>> Carefully she swung one leg over the windowsill, trying to get out onto the platform without making too much noise. She didn't want to startle him.
>> 
>> When she took the first hesitant step towards him the thick snow crunched under her shoes and the tall figure before her turned his head.
>> 
>> Even from his profile it was obvious that he had been crying, something that was to be expected after the recent events, yet it was an immense shock to the older woman. It had been years since she had last seen him cry, decades in fact, and even back then tears had been a sign of utter desperation.
>> 
>> "Severus", she whispered and her hand reached out for him on its own accord.
>> 
>> He didn't move, didn't even seem to see her, but at least he wasn't staring down into the dark abyss before him anymore. When he finally spoke she had to strain her ears to hear him; the wind nearly carried his words away.
>> 
>> "It won't stop, Minerva. I can't close the curtains anymore. Even when I close my eyes the pictures are still there."
>> 
>> She didn't really know what that meant, she only knew that he had recognised her, had talked to her. That was a beginning. Quickly she covered the ground between them. In one frantic movement she slung her arms around his waist and pulled him off the parapet, stumbling backwards and dragging him with her. They crashed down onto the cold snow-covered stone and in her arms he went completely limp. With difficulty she manoeuvred herself into a sitting position, her back propped against the same pinnacle that had shielded the man in her arms from the wind only minutes earlier. She started rocking back and forth, holding him in a motherly embrace. When she felt how he started to cry she relaxed slightly. She didn't have the faintest idea where the tunes of the Scottish lullaby came from.

"It was just a vague idea anyway", Lupin said in a disappointed tone when he and Tonks left St. Mungo's. Turning up their hoods against the wind and the snow that was still falling steadily they marched off along the street, Lupin leading the way with long strides, Tonks following rather clumsily. Her shoes were not exactly perfect for that weather and she kept slipping on the ice that lay underneath the snow.

"There was logic behind it", she told him consolingly. "And the nurse said that he has visited her just a couple of days ago, so your idea was actually really good."

Reflexively he held out a hand to steady her as yet another piece of ice caught her unawares.

"But not good enough. Fact is that none of us knows him well enough to have any clue as to where he might go in a crisis. And that is because we never took the time to get to know him."

Determinedly she linked arms with him, thus preventing herself from falling and him from storming away without her.

"Accusations and self-loathing will not help us now", she told him matter-of-factly. "We need ideas. Right, what have we done so far?"

He looked at her and sighed.

"We have informed Minerva and asked her to keep an eye out for him, even though I still think it is highly unlikely that he will return to Hogwarts. It's his strongest link to Albus, after all, and somehow I have the feeling he doesn't want to be reminded of him right now. We checked his parent's house and found only ruins. We checked Knockturn Alley and found only the usual amount of drunks and criminals. And just now we used up our last clue and checked on his confused ex-girlfriend which we didn't even know he had five hours ago."

He looked at her defiantly.

"Right", she muttered and her confidence crumbled slightly. "So, no new clever ideas. Then my suggestion would be to return to the headquarters and talk to the others. Maybe, if we all put our heads together …"

Her voice trailed off, yet she looked up at him hopefully.

"I doubt it. But at least it will be warmer there."

With a quiet _plop_ they apparated off, leaving only footprints in the snow.

> > His breathing had become less ragged as his sobs ebbed off. His body was trembling violently, yet she was sure it was only in part from the cold.
>> 
>> "Severus", she muttered carefully into his ear. "Let's get inside. This is no place for an old woman like me."
>> 
>> He didn't answer, only his hands clutched her cloak more tightly than ever before.
>> 
>> Gently she pushed him away from her, thus forcing him to straighten up a little. His face was pallid, his lips blue. There was dried blood under his nose and she wondered for a second what had caused this. When he looked at her she inadvertently drew a sharp breath. So much sorrow, so much agony lay in those dark eyes. It nearly broke her heart.
>> 
>> "Come on", she said and her voice radiated more confidence than she actually felt. "Let me take you inside."
>> 
>> Feeling every bone in her body she rose from the floor, brushing snow off her dishevelled robes and pulling him up after her. Without thinking she reached up and swept a strand of wet black hair out of his face, brushing his cheek with her hand for a second. To her surprise he didn't draw back. Encouraged she dared to take his hand and lead him off the roof, into the owlery and down the stairs. He followed her without any resistance. And that scared her most of all.

Albus Dumbledore took a deep breath as he entered the overgrown garden. There were footprints in the snow, indicating that someone had been here not that long ago. His heart rose. Maybe he was on the right track. But no, those were two pairs of footprints. Definitely not Severus.

Carefully he found his way between frosted rose bushes, wildly growing hedges and neglected trees. The house rose up in front of him dark and menacing. Broken shutters and splintered glass in the windows gave it the grim expression of a half-blind old man.

A half-blind old man, like you, the old wizard thought bitterly.

Through a hole in the wall he could catch a glimpse of the inside, cold and threatening. A table and some chairs, neatly arranged in the middle of what must have been the kitchen. Everything was covered in dust and cobwebs.

At the far end of the garden he could make out a large old oak tree, its bare branches rustling in the icy wind. Squinting he could make out an unexpected patch of flowers underneath the tree, a spot of white and yellow covered not with snow, but with a thick layer of ice.

"I was so sure he would come here", he muttered, still staring at the tree.

Wearily he pulled his cloak closer around himself before he apparated with a silent _plop_. The wind sighed heavily in the branches of the oak tree.

> > He looked so small and fragile as he sat there in her old red-and-gold armchair, huddled in a blanket, staring off into the flames. The shivering hadn't stopped and whenever he closed his eyes a flicker of fear and pain flitted across his face. She didn't really want to press into him, but she needed to know what exactly had happened. Otherwise how would she be able to help him?
>> 
>> After taking another huge sip from her glass she settled down on the armrest of his chair, getting as close to him as she thought wise at the moment. When she relaxed slightly against the backrest he placed his head against her shoulder and gave a deep sigh.
>> 
>> "I just want it to stop, Minerva", he whispered.
>> 
>> She rested her cheek on his head and placed her wrinkled hand on his long and elegant fingers.
>> 
>> "Do you want to tell me what happened?" she asked carefully. Lupin had given her a hurried and slightly confusing summary of things, one that she still had difficulties to believe. She hadn't asked just because she needed to know, but because she had the feeling that he needed to tell.
>> 
>> "Public Legilimens", he said tonelessly. "He dragged my soul out into the light and took it apart bit by bit in front of the Order. He didn't know where to look, so he just ripped out everything there was."
>> 
>> Minerva McGonagall felt a cold shiver of panic travel down her spine at the idea of someone pulling out her most intimate thoughts, her most private memories. The intrusion alone was gruesome. Dragging them out into the public was unforgivable.
>> 
>> "In the end I gave in. I tried to drown him in the flood of memories, but … now I don't know how to fence them in anymore. Now I am the one who is drowning."
>> 
>> Another tremor ran through his body and he inhaled sharply, as if in pain. Flashes of colour exploded before Minerva's eyes. She saw smoke, smelled damp earth, tasted blood on her tongue.
>> 
>> Wit a jerk she raised her head, breaking the contact between them. His mind was so out of control, so in uproar that impressions, unconnected sensations were leaping out wildly. Suddenly she felt a holy anger rise inside her chest. Nobody did this to one of her children. Nobody. Not even Albus Dumbledore.


	31. Chapter 31: Trust and Betrayal

A/N: Had two hours of undisturbed piece. Hope you enjoy the result. J

P.S: Black Rose – read your review just now and wanted to tell you that, strange as it may sound, I was _listening _to "Hallelujah" when I wrote the last chapter – alas, sung by Leonard Cohen. ;-)

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**_Chapter_****_ 31: Trust and _****_Betrayal _****__**

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Ron was poking listlessly at the flickering flames that threatened to die some time during the next minutes if not fed. Harry and Hermione were surrounded by red hair, Ginny still asleep with her head resting on the table behind them, Mr. and Mrs. Weasley sitting beside them on creaky old chairs, their feet resting in front of the fire. Their voices were hushed, yet the tension had slipped out through one of the leaky windows quite a while ago.

"I have to admit that I never liked him", Mrs. Weasley sad with a timid and apologetic smile. "All this black and the pale face … and he never really eats anything!"

That last bit seemed to be the most disturbing observation for her.

"And it probably didn't help that Bill always told horrible stories about him when he came home during the holidays."

Gingerly Mr. Weasley patted his wife's back before focusing his gaze back on Harry.

"I don't think there is anyone in the Order – with the exception of Professor Dumbledore, of course – who felt comfortable around him. I remember Tonks trying to persuade him to stay over for dinner in the beginning, but …"

Here he blushed a little and lowered his gaze momentarily.

"I'm afraid the reactions from the rest of the group weren't exactly … encouraging."

"Well, he is not the kind of person you'd want to spend your evenings with", Harry said, urging his muscles into a forced smile.

Mr. Weasley smiled back, Hermione, however, shot him an irate look.

"Oh, come on, Hermione", he said in a steady voice. "Yes, we saw that he had an unhappy childhood, an unhappy life, in fact. Yes, something horrible happened to him here today, something that no one should have to endure, and yes, I do feel pity for him. But that doesn't mean that I suddenly have to like him."

It looked like she was going to answer, but then she just swallowed once before redirecting her gaze into the flames that were slowly responding to Ron's persistent prodding.

"I guess then it's just me who has to think about dispensing her trust and dislikes more carefully in the future."

And suddenly he understood. This was not really about Snape. This was about Dumbledore. For Hermione, in fact for most of the others, the shock had to be much more intense than for him. After the events of the summer, after Sirius' death and Dumbledore's subsequent revelations, his picture of the headmaster had undergone a drastic change. He knew that the old wizard was a fierce fighter, a cunning strategist who was able to sacrifice lives for the sake of the higher cause - and who made mistakes, whose judgement was far from infallible. He had already adjusted his view of the world, had decided to place his trust in his friends rather than in deceptively responsible adults. Hermione hadn't. He could still remember what she had said last year:

"If we can't trust Dumbledore, we can't trust anyone."

Carefully he placed an arm around her shoulder and held her tight.

"People make mistakes and disappoint you, Hermione. They don't do it on purpose, but they do it. The only way to cope with it is to learn from it, adjust your actions and move on. It's not the end of the world."

She relaxed a little, then buried her face against his shoulder and started to weep silently. Mrs. Weasley watched the two of them with wet eyes herself.

"How did you grow-up so fast?" she asked Harry with a sad little smile.

OOOOOOOOOOOOO

The blanket lay crumpled at his feet. His elbows were resting on his knees and he pressed his hands against his head as if to make sure that his mind wouldn't explode. Minerva McGonagall regarded him with a look of deep concern. After a long internal battle she had decided to put some room between herself and his randomly escaping memories and until now she hadn't been able to figure out if that had been a good idea. Watching him from her own chair on the other side of the fireplace, she decided that the silence had lasted long enough.

"If you want, I can go to the hospital wing and ask Poppy for a sleeping draft."

His head shot up and he looked at her with slightly bloodshot eyes.

"Does she know?"

Slowly she shook her head.

"No. Nobody knows but me."

In obvious relief he let out a breath they both hadn't realised he was holding.

"Then I would like to keep it that way. Besides, if I wanted a sleeping draft, I would turn to my own supply."

That last bit had been delivered with at least some part of his usual asperity and she found herself daring to show a little smile. It soon faded, though, when she saw him bury his head in his hands again and clawing at his scalp with such ferocity she knew it was only a matter of time until he did some serious damage.

"Severus." She reached across the faded crimson rug to rest a hand on his arm. "Let me help you."

"How?" he muttered, still kneading his head. "How do you want to make this stop? How do you want to change what has happened?"

She resisted the urge of getting up and holding him again. She was not prepared for the onslaught of mental fragments that would undoubtedly meet her and it would surely do no good to him. So she just kept on stroking his arm.

"I wish I _could_ change what has happened", she whispered, feeling tears that where threatening to conquer her usually so stern voice rising in her throat. "Not just tonight, but many years ago. I wish I could go back and take different choices, for my life as well as for yours. But I can't. I have to live with the decisions that I took and with the person I have become. And so do you."

He snorted, but only half-heartedly.

"That is not exactly consoling, you know?"

"But it should be", she said, a little more austere than she had intended. "From a lonely and mistreated child you have managed to grow into …"

"A lonely and mistreated man", he cut her short. "Only I have succeeded in adding loathed, mistrusted, backstabbing and weak to the initial mix. Every single bloody turn I took led me a little bit further down a road I never wanted to follow and I haven't even learned from experience. People close to me either betray me or I betray them."

In one single move that deceived her true age she was beside him, dragging him out of the chair, pulling his hands away from his untidy hair and facing him with the stern look students of all houses had come to fear.

"Do you think I have betrayed you? Or that I ever will?" she yelled at him.

He looked at her, momentarily stunned, and all he could do was shake his head.

"And have you ever betrayed me?"

His eyes grew bigger and she knew he was watching a mental imagine, a recollection of some horrible moments in his past, warped even further by his current pain.

"You offered me help, treated me with kindness on so many occasions … and I refused your help. I deliberately choose the darkness when you offered light. Is that not betrayal?"

His voice was so small that she was surprised to still see him towering over her. That voice belonged to a frightened twelve-year old boy. And somewhere behind the obsidian darkness she could still see that child, stretching out his hands, pleading for help.

"No, Severus, it is not. You had to find your way in a world that has taught you distorted lessons about honour, debt and power, and you did so as best as you could. Looking back and seeing the better choice is easy. _Making _a choice in the first place is the hardest thing in the world. Yet you did it. You made your choices whenever it was necessary. You never gave in. You never let other people decide your destiny. So don't you ever tell me again that you are weak!"

She was shaking with anger – anger at him, for his self-loathing; anger at herself, for not being able to offer anything better than yelling; anger at the people who had done this to him.

"But however hard I try, it is never enough", he whispered, his eyes still clinging to hers. "I hurt and appal people wherever I go. Lucius, Narcissa, Ally, Albus …"

"Albus Dumbledore is a very wise, very powerful and very kind man."

She had to fight to keep her voice steady.

"And you know I would go through the fire for him, have done so already, in fact. But he is _not_ infallible. He makes mistakes. He misjudges. I just didn't know he was able of mistreating people."

Gently she brushed his cheek with her hand and he leaned into the touch ever so slightly.

"Maybe it's me."

This time his voice was almost inaudible.

"Somehow all the people I let come close turn out their darkest side. When I met Lucius he was gentle, sympathetic. Alice would never have thought about going into battle, if not for me. Even that holy child, Potter, gets wrathful and aggressive around me. And now Albus …"

She grabbed his face with both hands and forced him to look at her.

"Albus has been like this long before you got to know him and the war has just sharpened some of his … let's say … less benign qualities. Lucius Malfoy would have gone down that road with or without you and, to tell you the truth, I think he would have been dead by now if not for you. And Alice McErlaine became an Auror, because she was incredibly talented and _wanted_ to become one. She didn't do it to follow Frank Longbottom and she didn't do it to save you or to get back at you. As for Harry Potter …"

She flinched. Maybe it was because she was holding his face in her hands. Maybe her defences were weakened by her anger and confusion. Before her inner eye she saw a much younger Severus Snape fight with a slightly stout girl. She was crying when she stormed away, leaving the teenager flustered and confused. Harry appeared, also yelling, a dark passion burning in his eyes. Harry's face morphed into that of James Potter, smiling evilly, his wand stretched out and pointing.

Her first instinct was to let go, to interrupt the physical contact. Against better judgement she held on, riding that wave of anguish and shame with him until it ebbed away. His eyes were still closed when she opened hers again.

"Harry is a teenager", she went on, trying to sound as if nothing had happened. "A teenager with an unreasonable and dreadful amount of responsibilities on his shoulder and a destiny that he never asked for. And he is alone, more alone than either he or Albus dare to see. Lone wolves may recognise each other, but they don't get along well."

When he opened his eyes she thought she saw a little spark somewhere in that fathomless black. He was still trembling slightly, yet his hands were no longer clenched into fists, his shoulders had lost a little bit of their tension.

"You are strong", she told him, hoping that he would be able to feel her sincerity. "You always have been. This is not the end, Severus, I promise. Whatever help you need, whichever way you want to go, I will be there for you, because I believe in you. I – believe – in – you."

When the tears started to flow she just held him, let the pictures wash over her, faces, sounds and feelings. It would get better. They would see this through. She believed in that – and in him.

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

It was nearly dawn when they finally decided to go to bed.

"We won't be much of a help for anyone, if we can't keep our eyes open", Ron pointed out as he shouldered his sister. Ginny murmured something incoherently, close to waking up, but not close enough. With a little sigh she rested her dangling head against Ron's back and curled his hands into his cloak.

Harry pulled a puffy-eyed Hermione to her feet and led her off towards the stairs to their bedrooms. As they passed through the hall the entrance door opened quietly, revealing a shivering Tonks, closely followed by an equally frozen Lupin. Both their lips were blue from the cold and snow clung to their cloaks and hair.

Mrs. Weasley came bustling out of the kitchen, showering them with sympathy and motherly advice as to how to get their feet warm again in no time. Mr. Weasley had already set a kettle onto the fire and brought two blankets.

Harry and Lupin exchanged a look, Lupin shaking his head sadly. Then the teens started their way up the stairs. Somehow they didn't feel like parting, especially Hermione, who still seemed close to tears, so they all settled down in the boy's bedroom, Ron and Ginny in one bed, Harry and Hermione in the other one.

The contents of Harry's trunk were still scattered around the room from his frantic search for his invisibility cloak and even though they were not in the mood for cleaning up, they had to at least clear the beds. With Ginny snoring happily on Ron's halfway orderly bed the other three snatched up socks, chocolate frog cards, several jumpers and pieces of parchment. When Harry carried them over to his trunk, planning on just dropping them there unceremoniously, something slipped from his grip. Cursing he threw the rest of his load into the open trunk before he bent down and to retrieve his lost possession. It was the Marauder's Map and it had unfolded itself slightly in the process of falling. Harry frowned. Hermione had already nestled herself under the sheets and watched him out of heavy-lidded eyes. Slowly he picked the map up and, following a sudden impulse, pulled his wand out of his pocket and tapped the map with the tip.

"I solemnly swear that I am up to no good."

The familiar lines unfurled on the yellow parchment, revealing corridors, classrooms, towers. Mr. Filch was patrolling the dungeons, Mrs. Norris in his wake. Madame Pomfrey was fast asleep in her private room beside the hospital wing. And Professor McGonagall – was not alone.

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	32. Chapter 32: If it was me

**Chapter 32: If it was me**

She couldn't remember how long they had been sitting on the floor, Severus' back against the wall, his head against her shoulder. She had stroked his still damp hair for what had seemed like an eternity, had let fragments and splinters of his past wash over her, uncensored, unordered and unjudged. In the beginning the urge to file them, to put them in the proper place according to her own timeline had been overwhelming. In the end the task of watching them alone, of taking all of it in had turned out to be almost more than she felt capable of.

When his breathing finally became steady again and the sobs subsided she gently coaxed him to his feet and onto her four-poster. There was a hesitant look in his dark eyes, yet he didn't protest as she softly pushed him onto the heavy red-golden down blanket. He didn't take off his cloak or strip off his shoes and for a moment she flinched involuntarily at the idea of the mud-sprinkled boots soiling her cosy nest. Then she shrugged the meaningless concern off like an uncomfortable garment, transfigured herself into a cat and jumped lightly onto the bed beside him. His exhaustion alone would probably have been enough to make him drop off into an uneasy sleep within minutes; the warm furry body pressed against his side and the comforting purring noise emitting from it turned minutes into seconds and shone a warm tabby light into the dreaded darkness.

SSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSS

_He found himself in a room full of half empty shelves, turned-over boxes, knocked over trunks and shredded curtains. With a look of utter bewilderment he picked up a book that lay in front of his feet, the spine cracked, the binding severely battered. Carefully he let his long fingers run over the front, touched the pale blue letters that spelled out "The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe". Clutching the book to his chest he advanced further into the chaotic room. _

_It looked like a bomb had exploded. Pieces of parchment and ordinary paper lay strewn all over the floor. A teddy bear, with one ear missing and one of his glass eyes teetering in a disturbing angle out of the fluffy eye socket by one tiny thread, swung on a chandelier made entirely of metal roses. A cauldron had been turned over, its contents spilled out; the floor was sticky with some indefinable oozy green liquid. Different sets of robes slouched on smashed chairs, showing neither dignity nor the slightest bit of style. Most of them were dark red or blue or green, not a single black one was to be seen._

_Two white candles were still burning on a windowsill and lit the face of a shabby old puppet. The porcelain had turned a nasty yellow colour; the dark curls were matted and a finger on the left hand was missing. The yellow dress was as threadbare as the cotton body underneath._

_Severus Snape touched the dark window with a reluctant finger. Releasing the filthy glass again he found soot covering his skin and a little ray of sunlight twittering into the room through the tiny hole in the dirt. With a little more conviction he used the palm of his hand to free more glass of its sticky cover and was rewarded by golden light seeping through the opening, warming his hands. Grabbing a piece of velvety red cloth from a nearby rocking chair he started to scrub frantically until sweat was pouring down his face. He didn't stop until the window was as clear as the outside sky again and sunlight filled every nook and cranny of the room._

_The chaos inside was much more obvious now, yet at the same time less threatening. The destruction was on a much smaller level than at first assumed; things were basically in disorder, dented but not completely smashed. Little marks and imprints in the dust on the shelves indicated where the place of nearly every item had been. It would be relatively easy to put things back into place. Time consuming, yes. Tedious, for sure. But not impossibly hard._

_Sighing he picked up a vase, took a quick look around and quickly found a fitting dent in the dust. As he put the cobalt blue container back in place a frown crept across his face. His eyes wandered through the room, resting on every little article and item for a moment, until he finally fixed his gaze on the window and the sunlight streaming inside._

_Determinedly he took the vase of the shelf again, placed it carefully on the windowsill beside the puppet and seized another cloak, a dark violet one this time. Ignoring the dust flakes dancing around him, tickling his nose and making his eyes water, he started dusting off every surface in the room – shelves, books, toys, bottles, jars, picture frames, furniture._

_It seemed to last for ages, this fight against the dirt and the grime. In the end, however, he was victorious, standing in the middle of a pile of unbelievably filthy rags which lay in the middle of a sparkling clean room._

_As a satisfied little smile started to spread across his lips the garments disappeared. Tired yet determined he pulled off his long dark cloak as well as his black jacket, rolled up the sleeves of the white shirt underneath and took a deep breath. His black eyes scanned the scattered items as he slowly turned around in a full circle. _

_"I guess I should start with the framework", he told himself. His voice sounded calm and even._

_He was not smiling when he set to work, arranging chairs, lining trunks up and pushing shelves back against walls. His whole body seemed to relax with the physical effort, though, the tension seeping out through his fingertips and disappearing into nothingness. By the time he had to face the much harder task of finding appropriate places for all the little bits and pieces he had opened the first three buttons of his shirt; his hair clung to his face in sweaty-wet strands and his face was covered with grey streaks here and there where he had wiped off the sweat with dusty fingers._

_SSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSS_

Minerva McGonagall heard her sleeping companion sigh and moved a little bit closer to the slightly twitching form. A long-fingered hand came to rest on her furry body and started stroking her reflexively. With a content sigh of her own she nuzzled her nose back under her tail and resumed the purring.

SSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSS

"He is in Hogwarts", Harry whispered to Hermione as he crawled under the covers. Ron had already rolled onto his side, facing against the wall, away from his sister and his friends in the other bed. Hermione gave Harry a startled look.

"How do you know?"

Wordlessly he pulled out the Marauders' Map from under his sweater and together they stared at the tiny spot labelled "Severus Snape" which was disturbingly close to another spot labelled "Minerva McGonagall". Both were located near the Gryffindor tower in Professor McGonagall's rooms. Neither of the spots was moving.

"How come nobody looked for him there?" Hermione whispered disbelievingly.

Harry rested his head against the wall behind him, fiddling with the pillow to make himself more comfortable.

"I guess they did look for him there, just at the wrong time. Maybe he got there after they had already left. Maybe he tried to avoid them deliberately."

He shrugged. As he kept on looking at the map he noticed Hermione's persistent stare.

"What?" he asked, a little surprised.

"What do you mean '_What'?_" she hissed, throwing a nervous glance towards the other bed where Ron had stirred slightly and nearly pushed Ginny out and onto the floor. Muttering and kicking vaguely the young red-head fought her way back onto her part of the mattress.

"Why are you just sitting here, looking at that map? Shouldn't we be downstairs, telling the others where to find him? I mean, Remus and Tonks have been out all night looking for him. Professor Dumbledore is still out there, trying to …"

"And you really think it is a good idea, if they find him right now?" he interrupted her. "The man has been pushed very close to the edge tonight and somehow I have the feeling that he would prefer to be left alone right now."

Hermione wouldn't back down.

"Sure, but this is not about what he would prefer, Harry …"

"No, it never is, is it?" he cut her short, his voice ringing with an anger he couldn't really explain. One look towards the other bed confirmed what he already knew: he had woken the Weasleys. Ginny did her best to focus on him in spite of her heavy eyelids and Ron shot him a glance full of sleepy annoyance.

"People are trying to sleep here, you know", he grumbled.

Hermione had already untangled herself from the covers and was trying to find her shoes under the bed.

"We know where Snape his."

Her voice was muffled a little as she was halfway gone under the bed frame, groping for her second shoe.

"And Harry doesn't want to tell anyone."

Harry stared at the others defiantly. Ron was about to ask how Harry knew, but the piece of parchment, still sprawled on the bed covers, made that question superfluous. Ginny pushed herself up on one elbow and looked at Harry intently.

"Is he alright?"

Harry nodded.

Ginny nodded back. Then she turned around again, pulled the blanket over her ears and pointedly ignored the others. Ron looked at his sister's slumped form in disbelief.

"Are you mad? If we know, we have to tell someone!"

Hermione appeared from underneath the bed, dust covering her sweater and her pants. While jumping on one leg to wriggle her foot into the second shoe she nodded her head vigorously, endangering her balance.

"Ron is right, Harry. They need to know. They are really anxious. There is no need to make them worry unnecessarily."

Her hand was already on the door handle when Harry caught her wrist. There was an unusual fire in his eyes, a fire that had been awoken only last year, fuelled by the pains of realisation, of disappointment, of growing up.

"He is not alone, all right? He is with Professor McGonagall and I am pretty sure she knows how to take care of him. There have been too many eyes on him tonight and if it was me, I would not want to see anyone who was involved in what has happened here just a few hours ago. If it was me, I would want to be left in peace."

After every crisis he had somehow survived, after every obstacle he had overtaken, his friends had been there by his side, caring, worrying – and as much as he had appreciated their concern, he would much rather have been left alone for a while. When something mind-shattering happened to you, you just wanted time to come to terms with the new situation, with what lay behind you as well as with what lay ahead. Yes, if it was him, he would want to be left alone.

"But this is not about you, Harry", Hermione answered his previous sentence as much as his thoughts. Shaking off his hand she stormed into the hallway. He banged his head against the doorframe in frustration before he followed her.

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_The room seemed strange to him now. All his things were still there. He knew that. He had touched every single piece, cradled it in his hands thoughtfully for a moment, before finding an appropriate place. Some things he had had to rearrange a couple of times before he was content with the result, before everything fit, before everything made sense again._

_He must have been working for hours, yet the angle of the sun hadn't changed. Golden rays of light still broke through the glass, casting shadows against the walls. Dust flakes were still dancing in momentary spotlights, seemingly enjoying the attention._

_He was tired, so tired._

_Yet he knew he wasn't done yet. He still needed covers, doors, some kind of protection. Cupboards would have been so much better than mere shelves, but he didn't have any. Part of his anxiousness returned has he scanned the room again, searching against better judgement for something he knew wasn't there. His heart skipped a beat as he caught the glimpse of something black and shiny behind one of the trunks. He knew it hadn't been there before, yet he didn't care. This was exactly what he needed, a dark, heavy curtain that would shield his precious belongings from prying eyes._

_With trembling hands he started to wrap the dark material around the shelves' outer posts, securing it with a knot before pulling it across the open front._

_None of his knots would hold longer than a few seconds. As soon as the weight of the cloth started pulling at them they gave way and his construction tumbled to the ground. With every new attempt he got a little more nervous. His hands started to shake. Sweat kept dripping into his eyes. Hectic red spots appeared on his pale cheeks._

_Yet he tried again._

_And again.___

_And again.___

_Until he finally gave up, slumping down onto the floor, onto the dark velvet._

_He wanted to cry._

_He wanted to shout._

_But he was too tired and too exhausted to do it._

SSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSS

He had started to moan quietly, a look of despair on his pale face that tore at her heart. Quietly she snuggled even closer to his feverishly hot form and started licking his hands in the soothing and comforting way of a mother cat cleaning her kittens.__


End file.
